Inconcessus
by Strings of a Puppet
Summary: She's blinded by love. He's blinded by lust. l Anthology l 'The worst part of you is me.'
1. Fruits of Lust

**GENERAL DISCLAIMER APPLIES**

* * *

**_.01_**

_The fruit will only grow if you let the planted seed take root._

* * *

All he could think and was capable of doing at the moment was to scoff lightly. It was an action that defined the strong opposition he felt towards the idiotic thought that suddenly danced across his mind. But even as he willed it out of his thoughts, it began to linger, taunting and bringing a vast curiosity in him at the same time. Surely it was normal to let the mind wander over these things, but he was one that couldn't be bothered when he had much more important goals to accomplish.

It still didn't stop his onyx eyes from stealing a quick glance at the girl's pretty face. He couldn't lie, at least not to himself because that would be pathetic, and he was anything but that. Her face was titled upwards towards the blue sky, lost in thought (she didn't even hear him scoff), as she stood near the red bridge railing. Their hyperactive teammate had not arrived yet, much less their always late sensei, so he was stuck waiting with her.

Again, the urge to scoff returned when his stubborn eyes gradually lowered from her face to her visible neck, and to her small frame. The manner she was drawing his attention was annoying him to no end. It was like any other day and they were waiting as usual, so it was quite perplexing that this wasn't another morning of boredom. He mentally sighed. Judging from the sun's position, he knew that the other two wouldn't be showing up for another several minutes or hours. He might as well approach the situation logically and not ignore what was bothering him, even if it was the easiest solution to do so.

The question was, however, where could he start unstringing this web of confusion?

* * *

**F _r u_ _i_ t s**

_**of**_

**L _us_ t**

* * *

A light breeze traveled by; swaying some of his raven hair and her vibrant pink locks. She raised her hand to push the stray strands behind her ear absentmindedly. His eyes had watched and could not look away. For some reason, he began noticing the smallest things about his pink-haired teammate. Things that one wouldn't notice but he did. And it irritated him because he seemed to be the only one. It wasn't like he suddenly noticed she had pink hair and green eyes because he did when he first saw her years back. Who wouldn't raise their eyebrow at someone with those 'unique' qualities?

However, he quickly discarded any thoughts to her appearance because he simply did not care. Therefore, it was certainly contradictory when he was caught up in the 'simple' things about her. Things like the whiff of floral scent her short hair gave off when she was in close range to him. And when she was close enough, it was the rosy blush he noticed on her perfect snowy skin. When she spoke, he sometimes found himself facing her and was met with the mesmerizing mixture of green tones in her eyes.

A short time after, somehow he became transfixed with the way she smiled that gave glow to her entire visage. It was like she was meant to be happy and it would be utterly strange if she wasn't smiling. He didn't know why her laughter sounded so distinguished from others or why he was immensely drawn to her movement. It wasn't interesting to see someone do a simple thing such as walking, but when she did it, he couldn't look away. Just the mere sight of her caused a tingled discomfort that was soon leading into something untameable.

Those innocent thoughts became frequent, much to his annoyance, and he did try to push them all away. However, as much as he did that, the thoughts rapidly changed. It incited these...seeds of urge that only emerged when she was around. He wasn't sure what he craved to do but it was strong enough to not ignore or push away.

Before long, he began to notice other things about her. That skin of hers proved to be smoother than he thought when she accidentally brushed her bare arm to the back of his hand. Her growing mounds that made small noticeable bulges under that red dress brought intense curiosity. The ends of the red dress she wore teasingly touched the back of her knees as she walked. And those almost knee-length shorts she wore were like second skin—

It was difficult to not think of this new knowledge when she was with him. It was one of the reasons why he couldn't tolerate spending too much time with her; so he pushed her away with harsh words because he couldn't take the mental images she was provoking by just being near. The rational part of him was angry that he was thinking about her that way. She was only an annoying fangirl and not worth ruminating about, but he knew she was slowly worming herself into his tolerance just like that blonde dobe.

Damn it, he should at least be thinking this way about older, more developed women. Not some pink-headed innocent girl that recently entered the stages of puberty. He shouldn't even be thinking this about her, whom he, admittedly, considered to be one of his only friends. So why?

The answer came to him quickly as his hands clenched into fists. It was all Kakashi's fault for leaving that stupid book of his lying open in the middle of training. The old man could have done it deliberately though now was not the time to dwell on that. Obviously he was disgusted by what he read even if it was less than five sentences, but it was enough to lose a little respect (that was never shown anyway) for his mentor.

Sure, Kakashi was an adult, but to read that in public? Really, he had no shame. So much for being one of the most respected shinobi across the land. Unlike Kakashi, he knew better, enough to know that these writings were vulgar. He was of the Uchiha Clan. These sorts of things were extremely frowned upon.

Nevertheless, what he managed to read was persistently roaming in and out of his mind since. Up until now, his thoughts concerning it were mere reflection and comprehension. He was thirteen, a growing teenage boy, and though he didn't want to admit, entering the phases of puberty. Still, he wasn't completely aware of all the changes that came with it because he wasn't informed much about anything of the sexual nature and honestly was more interested in training.

She had sighed across from him and repositioned herself on the bridge by leaning against it. Her arms were propped and one of her legs had bended so the sole of her foot rested on the lowest iron rail. Still looking up at the sky, she didn't notice his eyes focusing on how her shirt's material stretched across her chest. He swallowed.

And it wasn't like he had a parental figure that he trusted with this.

* * *

When the two idiots finally showed up, Kakashi explained that they were off for a mission and must meet at the gates in an hour. After he cursed at Kakashi in his mind, he began to walk in the direction of his apartment to pack his ninja gear. He was too engrossed in his thoughts that he forgot a minor detail.

"Wait, Sasuke-kun!"

He stopped as requested but one of his hands gave a slight jerk. She didn't wait for him to turn around and face her. "Can I walk with you, Sasuke-kun?"

He could detect the blush forming on her cheeks by the tone of her voice. She often asked him—every chance there was—things like this so it shouldn't be unexpected. Yet he couldn't find the usual will to decline her requests politely. Why did she do this when she knew the answer every single time? And for some reason, his mentor's eye was on him as well as the dobe's...would they start suspecting something if he agreed?

With that note, he opened his mouth to speak, "I don't care what you do."

He was too preoccupied with what the dobe or Kakashi would say to his rather unkind reply to notice that she just smiled and walked closer to him.

"We should hurry," she said, still smiling.

Naruto pouted. "But Sakura-chan! You could've asked me to walk with you!"

"Let's go, Naruto. You're wasting time complaining," said Kakashi before forming hand seals and disappearing in a poof.

Before Naruto babbled some more, Sasuke continued walking and she followed a step behind. She soon fell into the same pace and walked alongside him with her hands behind her back. "Isn't it a beautiful day, Sasuke-kun?"

He didn't think this day was any special. In fact, he hardly paid attention to the course of nature, unless it was necessary to determine the weather conditions in a mission. Was this what she was thinking about back at the bridge? She apparently thought that life or joy depended on aesthetic quality. From his peripheral vision, he eyed her features. Once again, she didn't wait for a response and resorted into silence.

"There's my house, Sasuke-kun, I better hurry. See you later!" She said minutes later, smiling brightly at him and hurrying towards the corner of a street.

He caught himself staring after her, shook his head, and went on.

* * *

The mission was simple. They had to travel to a village that took a minimum of two days to walk and bring back some medical supplies that the Konoha Hospital was in short of. It wasn't remotely interesting in the least, but a mission was a mission.

They walked in the usual manner: Naruto and Sakura were at the front, Naruto babbling about the excitement of the mission (he didn't listen to what it was about), and Kakashi was besides Sasuke reading his orange book. Sasuke had walked a couple feet forward, not wanting to be close to him and that stupid book, so he stared ahead with his hands in his pockets. The only problem was that she was in front of him.

Unwillingly, his gaze rested on the back of her head. The sunlight was reflecting her pink strands, making them shine, and was probably the reason why he was focused on it. It was too distinguishable for a ninja in any occasion, not apt for camouflage and it was too girly. If she really wanted to be successful as a shinobi, then she would have to consider dying her hair a common color. He briefly tried to picture her with a variety of dark colors but it was strange.

There wasn't an exact hurry so they took their time until night quickly approached. Kakashi looked from his book and announced they will stop here for the night.

"Stay close together," said Kakashi as they set up camp.

As they ate, Sakura and Naruto argued while Kakashi read. He had sat down with his eyes closed. He tried not to listen to Naruto's complaints about how boring the mission suddenly became or how Sakura was trying to convince him that it wasn't boring at all because they were getting medical supplies from a man who specialized in medicine, who was also an old friend of the Godaime.

He was the first to set up his sleeping bag by the fire. Soon enough, the others mimicked the action, setting their bags around it, forming a circle. The other three chorused "Good night" and settled into their beds. He turned to his side, facing the fire in the center, so sleep could consume him. As he watched the moving flames, he noticed she was directly across from him with her eyes closed. Out of the four, she was always the first to fall asleep. From what he could see, she was used to sleeping with the blanket raised to her chin. It reminded him of a child lying comfortably and securely after being tucked in by parents.

He didn't realize the minutes ticked by until the flames had considerably died down. There was still a low orangey glow that emitted which partially illuminated Naruto's hair, Kakashi's sleeping bag, and her face. Soon, the moon was the only source of light when the night droned on. It made her features become ivory; with pale, glossy lips and light pink hair.

A small voice began to echo in his mind. Why was he staring? Well, it wasn't like there was anything else to look at. Naruto's drooling mouth wasn't a pleasant sight to see. And all he could see of Kakashi was the lump on the ground. So it would be obvious to be looking at—

"You do know there isn't exactly a need to keep watch."

Sasuke blinked in response. Kakashi was awake? Then did that mean he was watching him this whole time? The realization of that made him shift uncomfortably. To think that someone knew of what he was recently doing and thinking, no less, of a teammate was humiliating, especially if that someone was Kakashi. Still, Kakashi couldn't have possibly have known since he had his back to them.

"Hn."

"I know the mission isn't what you or Naruto had in mind, especially if there's a low chance of fighting an enemy, but get some sleep. Nothing will happen under my watch. So relax."

Sasuke sighed, yet another lecture from his so called mentor. Did Kakashi get sick of saying them as much as he was sick of hearing them? With that now in mind, Sasuke turned away from the previous sight and lay on his back, succumbing to sleep.

* * *

"Are you serious? This is what we walked all day for?"

They had arrived at their destination the next morning, after some persistence of Naruto's to pick up the pace, and it wasn't what they had expected. There in front stood an old, sole house literally in the middle of the forest. The door suddenly opened and out came an elderly man with a suspicious look on his face.

"Ohayo, we are the Leaf shinobi that our Hokage had mentioned," said Kakashi, walking towards the house.

The man nodded slowly after eyeing Kakashi's mask, thinking it strange instead of suspicious, but squinted at the others. "She sent a couple of kids to retrieve these important medicines?"

Naruto opened his mouth to protest but Sakura raised her hand in front of him warningly and glared. He instantly kept quiet and crossed his arms in a huff. Kakashi replied almost dryly, "They're with me and are very responsible."

The old man scratched his chin. "Still, I will only allow one person to come inside."

"It's no problem," agreed Kakashi and then turned to the trio, "Sasuke, Sakura..._Naruto_, wait outside for a bit."

When the door closed, Naruto let out a string of curse words at the old man for underestimating him and sat on the ground, arms and legs crossed. As ordered, they waited but Naruto easily got bored then complained about needing to pee. Sakura made a face and Sasuke ignored the unnecessary comment.

Naruto got up and headed towards the forest to go find a bush. Well, at least it was quieter, but it didn't lessen the boredom of having to wait. The minutes ticked by and Sakura sighed. She decided to sit down on the steps, occasionally looking at the window in case the old man would come out and prohibit her from being there. He chose to lean by the stairs moments later to be under the shade the hut provided and wondered if she would find it strange.

When he was sure it had been more than fifteen minutes, she spoke first, "Naruto got lost didn't he?"

Of course, leave it to Naruto to get lost and not find the path to the house. Her eye twitched. "And Kakashi-sensei is taking so long!"

He remained silent, having a hint to what she was going to say next.

"Maybe we should go find Naruto." She stood. He mentally sighed. At least it would give them something to do. As they walked in the direction where Naruto had gone, it became silent once more. She was looking at the scenery, lost in her own world. Didn't she know not to get distracted on a mission? It was the most careless and stupidest thing one could do. Was it because she was with him? A bird appeared from the branches of a tree and flapped away into the sky. Her watchful eyes followed it until it was gone.

He had observed her. She was so...carefree.

Before resentment took over, he diverted his attention and stopped to inspect a footprint on the ground. He crouched down for a better look. It was definitely Naruto's. The dobe never covered his tracks—something suddenly jumped out from the bushes, made a growling noise, and grabbed Sakura from behind. Sakura gave a small scream, attempted to break free of the unknown grasp but ended up tripping over Sasuke and caused him to lose his balance too.

Recognizable, but irritating, laughter erupted from above. "Got ya!"

It was an uncomfortable situation. Sasuke was on his side, part of his face, namely his left ear, on dirt with Sakura sprawled over him. Not to mention the blonde idiot was on top of them both.

"Get off me, Naruto! You weigh a ton!" yelled Sakura, attempting to lift herself from the boy underneath her.

"I'm not that heavy!"

"You are!" she yelled as she pushed, with all her might, the whiskered boy off. They stood to dust off any dirt that collected on their clothes. She turned to the dark-haired and asked with concern, "Are you all right, Sasuke-kun?"

"It's not like he got hurt, Sakura-chan. He just got dirty," said Naruto and stuck his tongue out at him childishly.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, ready to make a nasty comment when a soft hand touched his ear. He slightly jumped and turned his angry eyes to Sakura. She retrieved her hand immediately, and with a blush said, "You had a bit of dirt on your ear."

"Let's go," he said instead and took the lead while dusting the dirt off his ear. _This whole day is a waste of time._

They returned just in time as Kakashi stepped out of the house. The older man came out, carefully set down three boxes, one for each of the trio to carry, and warned them of the severe fragility of the objects within in exaggeration. After Kakashi reassured the man that the medicines were in good hands, they proceeded to walk back to the village.

"Why do we have to carry all this stuff?" complained Naruto after an hour of walking. No one bothered to answer, much to his disappointment, but kept complaining. "I'm hungry!"

Kakashi sighed. "Since we are ahead of schedule, we can stop and rest for a while."

"All right, Kakashi-sensei!" said Naruto happily and dumped the box carelessly on the ground, which earned a quick scolding from Sakura. Naruto told her to relax and started digging in his bag for his ramen cup.

Sakura looked like she wanted to argue some more, but stopped and gave a small sigh. "There's a waterfall nearby, I'm going to freshen up."

Kakashi nodded as he read his book while Naruto found his cups. "It would be wise to set the tent up and get a fire going. It's going to be a chilly night with possible rain," commented Kakashi as a page turned. Naruto, who was starving, had already begun chewing on the raw noodles.

Sasuke scoffed. His teammates were a bunch of lazy idiots. Nonetheless, he dropped his pack and turned back into the trees. The sticks and logs for the fire were easy to find. He gathered just enough to last a few hours and proceeded to go back to camp. As he walked back, the sounds of water drew him in and he remembered she had gone off in that direction. He never understood the constant female necessity to wash up and Sakura had been doing much of that lately.

Slowly the curiosity returned; the thoughts beginning to take over again as he turned to the route of the water. She had mentioned it was nearby, but with his hearing, he estimated that it was further off. A voice within hastily whispered that he could use this as an excuse to make sure she didn't do anything careless.

Making a decision, he quietly set down the wood and walked through the trees. The sun was lowering and clouds were approaching but the air was still warm enough. As he came closer, he could see the waterfall beyond the trees and caught the sight of pink and red. He moved a bit off to the side so he would be able to see her clearly within some distance. She was placing a white towel on top of a large rock by the water. It looked like she was humming to herself and he noticed she was barefooted.

Suddenly, his eyes widened slightly as she faced the water and began to undress. His hearing picked up the sound of a zipper and shuffling of clothes. His face was flaming up, and his pants were becoming too warm for comfort. She took off her red dress revealing a black mesh top and those green shorts. He never took her as a girl who would wear something as _suggestive_ as that but marveled at why she didn't wear that dark shirt instead.

Almost immediately, she placed her hands on the bottom and slid it off effortlessly, causing his breath to hitch considerably. He stared at her bare, smooth back and swallowed. Her hands then were placed on her hips. Those knee-length shorts were next...

Unaware, he had walked forward in anticipation and stepped on a small branch, which caused a sound. He reacted first and completely became stiff as he heard her gasp. She swirled around with her arms covering her chest.

Shit.

He remained perfectly still while she looked around with fearful yet cautious eyes. For a moment, he pushed aside who she was; including the fact that she was half nude, and remembered that no matter how naïve she was, she was still a kunoichi. What would happen if she saw him?

As he debated this in his thoughts, she shook her head and grabbed the red dress. She slipped into it quickly; making sure her front was covered in the process, zipped it halfway and gathered her things. In the haste, her movements were clumsy as she struggled to stuff her things into her pack. He had to go back now, but it would be suspicious to turn up before an alarmed Sakura. He would have to wait.

When she grabbed her things, she hurried back to where they had stopped for the night. Only when he was sure she was out of sight did he release the withheld breath. He didn't know which upset him the most, the fact that he was out here in the first place or that the supposed chance didn't fully present itself.

He stayed for a few more minutes until he headed back. Just when he arrived, Kakashi approached him. Inwardly, he panicked if they found him out, yet did not let this threaten his façade and waited until Kakashi spoke, "Did you see anything unusual?"

"No," he stated, putting wood in a pile while repeating, "_A shinobi must not show emotion_" in his mind.

Kakashi's eye was slowly scanning the area. "Sakura said she had a feeling she was being watched. If that's the case, we better be on our guard."

His tight grip on the log loosened as he dropped it with the rest and nodded in reply. Naruto had managed to put up the tent and was grinning in front of it. "Hey, Sasuke-teme! Look! I did it all by myself!"

Sasuke ignored him and quickly performed some hand signs to start the fire. Naruto kept rambling about how easy it was and to thank him for building shelter. Sasuke resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned to look at the result of Naruto's work, only to realize one of them was missing. "Where's Sakura?"

"She's inside admiring, I bet. I didn't have to use the manual this time—"

Kakashi interrupted, "I'm going to scout the area. Stay here and if something arises, defend yourselves. I won't be long."

"But I wanna come too, Kakashi-sensei! This mission is boring enough as it is," complained Naruto and hurried to his side.

"Fine. I guess this would be part of your ninja training for today...Sasuke?" said Kakashi as his gaze turned to the green tent. Sasuke understood. He was to stay here and protect their pink-haired teammate. Both Kakashi and Naruto jumped onto a tree and disappeared from sight.

Sasuke looked down at the mess Naruto made with his ramen cups and, although he didn't like ramen much, he felt hungry. Stomach growling, he went to the tent and walked through the flaps to see something unexpected.

Skin. And lots of it.

There was a sudden scream, causing him to jump back as his face heated up. Momentarily stunned, he blinked, realizing his blood was pumping and what had just occurred. She was still screaming so he hissed, "It's me!"

"Sasuke-kun?" she asked and there was a sigh of relief before it became silent. "You didn't…see anything, right?"

His mind flashed him the mental picture of a semi-naked Sakura in nothing but her bottom underwear. It was so much to take in that he didn't actually remember most of what he had seen. "...No."

There was another sigh inside. "I thought you were Naruto! I told him if he took a peek, I'll make sure he won't be able to feel his face for weeks."

The thought of the idiot walking into her like that was incredibly infuriating. "Hurry up," he muttered in unease and then went towards a log by the fire.

She emerged, completely red in the face as if the situation of Sasuke walking into her just hit. "Ano...where are the others?"

"Checking the area."

"Oh."

It was definitely awkward, although he didn't give any inclination of it, much to her growing embarrassment. So things like that didn't even faze the young Uchiha. She spoke in efforts to rid of the awkwardness she felt, "Naruto left a mess again."

While she proceeded to clean it up, he thought of what he saw, which was slowly registering in his mind. She had been dressing and was turned away from the entrance from a side because he remembered seeing her hold the mesh top ready to put it on. What he recalled most was the flower printed underwear, hugging her small hips, and her bare, short legs. He swallowed and tried to push the thoughts away.

There was a noise of something being dropped and he focused on that. She had always been clumsy. She quickly apologized and bent to pick it up. His obsidian eyes were drawn to how she had curved, especially to her rear. The thoughts of his head were urging him to imagine her naked in that exact position—

He shook his head once and closed his eyes. This wasn't the first time he wished the mission would be over already but this was starting to become extremely unbearable.

When she finished, she had sat next to him on the ground and began humming to herself again. She grew tolerable after the chunin exams. She used to have a hard time shutting up, like Naruto, and didn't have the slightest clue of how childish she was. Now, it was unusual to see her so silent or humming out of the blue. She was confusing at times to him and he didn't know why. Without thinking twice, he opened his eyes and blurted out, "Why do you like me?"

She stared at him, surprised that he not only started a conversation but also was actually showing interest in her affection towards him. Her mouth had parted a little from the shock, tempting his eyes to stare at those pink lips. There was short silence before she smiled. "Because you're...Sasuke-kun."

It wasn't what he wanted to hear and he knew that she wasn't being completely honest. It was probably because she wasn't open with her feelings for him. Still, he pressed further. "I want to know the reason why."

She blinked in confusion before a blush appeared on her cheeks. Her head lowered shyly as she answered, "I like you because you're strong and cool—"

His body moved on his own as he found himself closer to her. She stopped speaking, her blush intensifying.

"Keep talking," he ordered after he regained control of his body but stayed within close range.

Nodding, she kept listing the things she 'liked' about him but he wasn't listening as his hand on the ground twitched. He saw what it was trying to do yet he wasn't in control, just as his body had done. His hand went to her dress, fingering the red material. She didn't notice until his fingers slipped under it to touch the hem of her shorts.

"What are you doing?" she asked in alarm, moving back from him.

"There was a bug..." he stated while retreating the traitorous hand. _A bug? What a stupid excuse._

"A bug?" It was no secret that she was disgusted with bugs since she was a girl and tried to move away in slight fear. He stopped her by holding back one of her arms.

"It's gone now."

She had looked on the ground for reassurance before relaxing. Then she startled him by giving him a hug, now that he had touched her first. "Thank you, Sasuke-kun!"

_Push her away._ The demand was ignored as his hands had a mind of their own again as they settled on her back and gradually rose up while remembering the skin below the fabric. His digits reached the tips of her hair and traced the curve of her nape.

"Um...Sasuke-kun?" she said uncomfortably.

She was so tense. It was ironic in the way how she always wanted his touch but it unnerved her at the same time. Why was that?

"W-What is it-t?" she had difficulty whispering, not sure of what he was doing and why. This action was definitely bizarre for her and he sensed it quickly turn into fear. He didn't know he had this much power over her.

However, as to not scare her off by something he didn't completely want to do, he thought of something to cover up what he was doing. "I heard something from a distance."

At his statement, she had stiffened further. "But Kakashi-sensei said it was unlikely that we'll run into enemy shinobi."

He mentally cursed. How could he have forgotten that important fact? He knew that she would believe anything he said, as proven in the past, but she also had put a vast trust in the masked-nin. "He told me you were being watched."

"But I think I was imagining things—"

"Never let your guard down," he said and then added, "Haven't you learned that by now?"

If it was possible, she had frozen more in his hold. "Yes, Kakashi-sensei always told us to—"

"Quiet," he ordered as his hands subconsciously grasped her firmly.

They were silent. He was surrounded by the smell of her hair and neck. It was strange. Her hair was of floral while her skin emitted a scent of strawberry. Did she actually taste of strawberry? He mentally scoffed. Humans don't taste like pieces of fruit. Then perhaps some artificial product of some kind—He got rid of that thought as he finally let go of her and stood. "It's gone now."

She remained on the ground until it processed that he was no longer touching her and stood as well. She stayed a close distance to him anyway. "Shouldn't we tell the others right away?"

"I'll do that..." he mumbled as thoughts preoccupied his mind. Her scent lingered on him despite the fact that her warmth was fading.

* * *

The rest of the mission went by smoothly. She hadn't mentioned what happened but blushed every time she glanced in his direction. She was reverting to her earlier fangirl days. And it was annoying. Well, he did give her some reason to act like that.

After they had arrived in the village and delivered the supplies, he was free to head home for a shower. It was a simple D ranked mission and yet he was tired, well at least mentally. As he turned on the water and showered, he was reminded of the sound of the waterfall, followed by her image as she slowly undressed—He stopped the water right away and quickly got out. So now water influenced those idiotic thoughts.

Not wanting to be in a foul mood any further, he went to the kitchen and scanned for any food that was available. It kept his mind off the pink-haired girl until he spotted a box of cherries in the refrigerator. He'll like to pop her cherry—

His eyes widened, shocked at what he thought and the ignominy of it. Why was he even thinking about her right now? Finally having enough of these thoughts, he went straight to bed. Tomorrow will be another day. This was just a stupid phase that will soon be over.

_"Sasuke-kun..." she said sweetly. She always used a different tone when speaking to him but his one was sweeter, coated with a needier whine than usual. And it made his skin crawl. She was sitting beside him, smiling. Her hand gently lay on his knee and he wasn't sure when she had done that without his realization. Yet the unexpected touch alerted his senses._

_His face became warm, which indicated he was blushing, much to his disbelief. And all she was doing was simply touching his knee. As soon as he finished that thought, her hand slipped under his shorts and slowly trailed up, her palm disappearing under it. He couldn't move. She began nearing; her half-lidded eyes emitted unbelievable passion. He never thought she was able to do that with those innocent jade eyes._

_Yet here she was, coming closer and closer to his face. He tried to swallow, but it was difficult to concentrate when her hand was so warm. He wanted that hand to trail his skin on other untouched places as well. At once, her hand on his thigh disappeared and two hands began pulling at his shirt._

_"I-I want to touch you, Sasuke-kun," she breathed heavily, "Please...take it off for me."_

_She was pleading with such innocence, giving him the utmost impression that he was the only one who could help her and, strangely, was not annoyed at all by her constant neediness. He shuddered when she neared again; her invigorating, fruitful scent was making him feel lightheaded. Just as he was about to comply, she began to fade._

With a jerk, he awoke to the early morning and his heavy breathing. At first, he was confused to where he was since his state of mind was sluggish, caught up in the foreign incident. It was just a dream? Cursing, he sat up, not believing that even in his dreams he couldn't be free of her before noticing something was wrong. Perplexed, he looked under the covers and found a stain on his blue boxers.

He panicked. What was this? He couldn't have possibly wet the bed! He wasn't a two year old and this had never happened to him in his entire life. Before pure humiliation took over, another suggestion invaded his mind as he remembered bits and pieces of what he had heard growing up. Boys his age sometimes experienced...wet dreams.

Suddenly angered, he got off the bed, ignored the sticky feeling as he jumped into the shower to cleanse himself. This was pathetic and degrading. Why was this happening to him? Understandably, it was a natural reaction of the human body. He couldn't control it, which was infuriating. He needed to be in complete control to become stronger.

Once showered, he put on fresh clothes and kicked a nearby wooden cabinet, nearly succeeding in breaking it. This was too much. There had to be a way to stop it. He wasn't the dobe who would peek at girls in the hot springs. He wasn't Kakashi who read complete smut as a pastime _and_ in public. He wasn't—

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. His eyes narrowed at once, hating when people disturbed him, and dark orbs narrowed more when he answered it. It was _her._ Out of all people, why did it have to be her?

"What do you want?" he said harshly, wanting to slam the door in her face like she so much deserved.

"I just came by to give you this," she said meekly, blushing.

Looking down at what she was holding, he blinked. It was a basket full of tomatoes. Unexpectedly, he glanced up at her to see her smiling and the grip on the door handle loosened. The resolution to be rude and make her leave as soon as possible disappeared. Whether it was from the simple act of bringing his desired tomatoes or the courteous manner of how he had been brought up, but hardly used, it felt appropriate to let her in.

Without a word, he stepped aside as she rather hesitantly entered. After he closed the door, she handed him the basket and stood awkwardly. He realized it was the first time she was in his apartment. As she looked around, he put the basket on the table. The red tomatoes looked very plump. Briefly ruminating of all that had happened in several weeks, he closed his eyes. This was a chance to—

"Do you trust me?"

She snapped her head back to him in puzzlement and wondered about this sudden question. It was like when he had asked the reasons of her affection towards him. Although it was strange, she believed that all the questions he asked were to bring them a little closer in conversation. And she always wanted to help him in any way possible. "Of course. Why wouldn't I, Sasuke-kun?"

His head was down, raven hair over his eyes, and she noticed one of his hands was clenched.

"Sasuke-kun? Are you all righ—"

As she tried to near, his head snapped up, revealing crimson and swirling black. Her widened jade eyes darkened in shade and were in a deep daze. He studied her innocent blank face. _She trusted him._

He stayed where he was, simply studying her relaxed yet frozen form. She had not fallen into unconsciousness, instead stood absolutely still in front of him. He neared, faintly aware that his heart was racing, pumping hot blood throughout his body. He didn't feel this unless it was the thrill of a dangerous mission. But lately, it was all he felt when she was around so he had to settle this once and for all.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He was not afraid. Uchihas were not afraid of anything. He raised his arm while he took cautious steps towards her until his hand lay on top of her warm clothing above her chest. Again, he swallowed. His eyes returned to their onyx state as he glanced at her. Moving his hand, he kept his gaze on her and soon his fingers touched the small zipper of her dress. He took a deep breath before pulling it down.

Black material came into view and he was reminded of the netted shirt. When he completely unzipped the red dress, he pushed it off her shoulders so it would fall into a heap at her feet. The black shirt made her skin paler and smoother while her pink hair stood out. His breath hitched. She looked older, more attractive—He started to back away when he felt a jolt in his stomach. He checked her eyes that were still at lost. A little voice in his head demanded to know. _Why did you stop?_ Why did he stop? He wasn't a coward.

He retook the initial position and carefully began lifting the ends at her sides. The top slid up, revealing skin. He came closer to completely remove it from her head. When it slipped off, he avoided looking at her face and inhaled deeply. This was a chance to see the opposite sex. And he had to get rid of the urge before it started severely affecting his concentration..._before it started hurting her._

Again with caution, he began to take steps back until she was in complete view, feeling the same heat on his face but had increased as he diffidently gazed at her naked upper body. This was the first time he had seen a female body, with its delicate frame yet accompanied by a sort of hourglass figure. His eyes had centered on those breasts that he had shamefully thought about frequently. For a moment, he just stared in vigilance before his mechanic hands rose, placing themselves on the round shapes, and were welcomed with the warmth only a body can emit.

What he felt was pure softness. They were small but fitted perfectly in his hands. He didn't know what else to do but to cup them before thinking of squeezing. When he did, the breasts took a few shapes as he pressed with varying force. They looked the most appealing when he lifted them, making them look fuller in contrast to her thin body. As he lowered them, his thumb accidentally brushed against a sensitive pink spot and it became erect.

Perplexed, he removed his hand to see a very pink nipple on snowy flesh. His eyes drank in the sight, becoming amazed as if he were a child in a candy store. Testily, he did the same with the other and watched in fascination as it perked up, showing him a reaction of a female body.

There was only so much his eyes could take until the need to satisfy the curiosity enhanced. His hands began to explore: moving up to her shoulders and neck, down her arms, trailing across her stomach...

As he traced her female curves, he repeatedly monitored her face to see if she would react, but she was deep within the genjustu he placed upon her. He knew she had a talent for that so he put more power behind it.

The urge of which had been bothering him for weeks was still persistent, edging him on to fulfill it and he was reminded of the unfinished dream. Deciding to obey, he pulled at his collar and in a swift movement dropped his shirt onto the floor along with the clothes that had fallen at her feet.

He paid no heed to anything else, entirely centered on the task before him. Slowly, his bare upper chest covered hers and his arms went behind her lower back in a loose embrace. The side of her face touched his first. She was only a couple inches shorter than him and his nose was filled with her annoying yet unforgettable fragrance. The foreign feeling in his stomach skyrocketed. The touch was like a burst of electricity.

Body to body. Skin to skin.

The feel of her mounds against his bare chest was indescribable. Subconsciously, he began to rub against her and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood. His eyes closed and seconds later, a groan echoed in his throat, which he had difficultly controlling nonetheless. Hands settled on her small waist, above her long shorts itching for more skin. There was an intense and uncomfortable tightening in his pants. It was better to shed all clothes—

No. His eyes shot open, his digits stopped in their tracks, which had slithered down and touched the band of her underwear. It wasn't supposed to go this far.

Almost immediately, he backed off and looked at her in guilt. Indeed, she was pretty; resembling an exotic doll, but that was all she was right now. She was very much a vulnerable marionette and he knew if he truly wanted, could pull her strings to his complete bidding.

It sounded forbidden and pleasurable. He could finally satisfy the urge that had been slowly driving him insane and she wouldn't really have a problem with it—No! She was Sakura. The loving innocent girl, his teammate...

_And she trusts me._

He hastily but carefully clothed her, made sure nothing was out of place, and zipped her before he dressed himself. He had to get rid of the heat in his face before releasing her out of the genjustu. But what would she say? She would question him endlessly and he hated that. It'll be best if he chose another option. Without hesitation, he pressed a pressure point on her neck, caused her eyes to automatically close and fall forward onto him.

Catching her, he picked up her legs to carry her towards the couch. Pink tresses sprawled over her face as he set her down. He reached to brush them off as a becoming habit of constantly wanting to keep in contact—_Don't touch her!_ His movements froze, realizing the seriousness of what he had done, and left the room nearly tempted to trash the place in frustration. He didn't dare to come back until her chakra flickered repeatedly, indicating she was awake. As expected, she asked what had happened.

"You fainted," he simply stated, which caused the confusion on her features to increase. Even from where he was standing, he could see the internal battle of trying to remember what happened in her viridian orbs, and he was sure she was losing.

He was assured when she lightly laughed it off, saying that it must have been from the lack of sleep or something like that. However, it immensely annoyed him that she could be so naïve. She was supposed to be the analyst and tactical of the three. Didn't she remember what he had asked before exposing her to the Sharingan?

"Go home, Sakura."

"But—"

He was tired of this. Nothing felt right and he still hadn't made any sense of this. With a harsher tone, he repeated the demand, "Go home."

She was at lost; not knowing what she had done wrong now, but knew he was completely serious. Nodding in consent, her eyes itched of the withheld tears as she avoided looking at him and walked past towards the door. He too was lost in his thoughts. His hands rose when the door closed and stared at them. They still possessed her warmth and wouldn't stop shaking.

* * *

He didn't think it possible, since the inner torment never left him alone, but the torment lessened with time as he became preoccupied with more important series of events. She had gone back to normal yet kept a noticeable distance from him. Did he hurt her with his words? How much would she be hurt by his actions, especially of what he secretly had done in front and to her? She wouldn't know of what happened nor would he know the answers to his questions because he was leaving tonight.

It didn't matter anymore. This child's play was and had been nothing more than a distraction. It lured him off the path but he had to return to his sole purpose, now that _he_ appeared again.

Her tears. Her voice. He had ignored it all as she pleaded him to stay. With one last whiff of her scent, he gave her words of appreciation, knowing she wouldn't understand the whole reasons that came with it. He watched the familiar vulnerability of her sleeping form on the bench, having seen her in a sleeping state multiple times before, but not with tears twinkling on her eyelashes. It was a chilly night. She would be all right. Someone would find her eventually...

This would probably be the last time they'll meet. He had a goal to accomplish that could end his life, but he long ago accepted that possible fact. Yet he knew whatever had overtook him from within and directed his actions wasn't finished.

* * *

_And so it slowly grows..._


	2. Aeternus Eternus

A/N: Not the sequel to Fruits of Lust.

* * *

For the smexy djagito.

This update wouldn't have been possible without ohwhatsherface and her persuasive bribing.

* * *

_**.02**_

_We are darkened and forever stained with sin._

* * *

_**.:aeternus eternus:.**_

* * *

_It was every girl's dream of a blossoming fairytale love; the kind that included a swarm of butterflies and frantic heartbeats upon each new and anticipating encounter coated with warm, addictive kisses on lush grass or in between drops of rainfall, nature as the only witness of a growing affection in each stroke of skin that led into an unforgettable, eternal union between two lovers._

Sea-green irises simply stared, without a single flutter of long eyelashes, at the reflection emitted in the long length mirror. The sun's beams hit the glassy surface at an angle; illuminating the white material she donned and making the fabric look of a brittle substance, just like the scattered cherry blossoms illustrated on the resplendent kimono.

Soft, coral tresses were swept back in a semi-elegant form, allowing some deliberate rebellious tendrils to adorn her incredibly innocent, girlish features. Her usual pink petal lips were bolded cherry red, clashing with pale, pallid skin of her visage, and to which also demonstrated a state of nervousness swirling within her. Yet, at the same time, her overall appearance was nothing short of perfection.

The wishful little girl had grown into a beautiful woman.

The woman was prepared and dressed at her best, since this day marked a new commencement in her life. Swirling cautiously, she made sure nothing was out of place as she repeatedly glanced at the result in the reflection. With months of preparation and waiting, everything she had wanted to have, have all fallen in place: a secure future and her fairytale ending.

She prayed the right decision was made, and as much as she had repeatedly reassured herself, there still was the seemingly endless beating of butterfly wings from inside, yet this time, she was beginning to hate that feeling, more so when she had been unable to cease those nerves for the last hour. A case of uncontrollable jitters was expected on a day like this, but something was extremely off. Why didn't she feel the extreme happiness she had looked forward to and hoped?

—_She doesn't look like me and yet…she is me_—

Releasing a sigh, she faced the mirror once more; olive orbs averted downwards, entering a laconic stage of reminiscence at how exactly she reached this point in her life, before her acute senses tingled in warning, alerting her body and mind that danger was approaching, but she was a second too slow in reacting.

"Everyone is waiting for you, _princess_."

The deep, sardonic voice sent automatic chills down her vertebrae, triggering her heart to freeze momentarily before it forcefully beat against her ribcage in an accelerated pace, linking to her calm breathing pattern as it altered considerably. Her viridian orbs dashed to meet the mirror, a quick ally, to see the still figure from behind, hidden by opaque shadows.

It wasn't long until the figure emerged from the darkness, the same light hit and enhanced his features, the same beautiful face she dreamt through long cool nights and unsettling short slumbers; though it failed to make him look angelic. He looked quite the opposite, with the combination of his pale complexion and dark locks, including the lack of expression, bottomless—she once feared them to be forever empty in consequence of his previous external and internal battles—onyx eyes and cunning smirk.

He proceeded to walk closer, keeping jade eyes connected to his in a tortuous allure as his began to work his hypnosis: a languorous power that had always been inescapable, ensnaring her into his control from the moment she first set sight on him, to the days and nights in between, and up to this exact instant.

She wasn't certain what it was about those dark depths found in his eyes that made her stomach plummet with unsettling emotions whenever he put his focus on her. She knew, from the very beginning, he used it to his advantage with the intention of making her feeble—she blinked and the view changed, her common sense returned while she battled the seductive waves he liberated towards her by averting her eyes, glancing to a vase of crimson red peonies located within a few feet from him. Ino had picked it out especially for her as a sincere wish for a happy future, but the striking flower bouquet was not worthy of his notice for his eyes were only focused on…

"What are you doing here, Sasuke?" she softly asked, still not quite daring to look at him just yet, while her arms subconsciously crossed over her front.

—_Protecting the heart which I once given you unconditionally. Without a second thought to how you would take it in your hands_—

With an attentive gaze, he watched her movement and responded in a low voice. "What do you think?"

The chills returned, answering to his query. Before she allowed the moment to become awkward and tense—out of her control—her viridian irises transformed from the unstill, cautious look into one full of determination. "This isn't..." she began, but stopped to clear her suddenly dry throat before continuing angrily, "Leave!"

Obsidian eyes narrowed at the demand, not accustomed to being told what to do, as he looked at her through the mirror. She kept her determination strong; her arms dropped at her sides, hands curling into fists, and did not feel alarm as she stared back into those hard dark orbs. A brief reminder traveled across her mind, telling of the fear previously evoked when she had been afraid to meet those eyes again after a long absence.

She had enough of this incursion, especially when her perfidious mind and body's reactions were a hazard to her confidence, and turned around to face him when he didn't budge, much likely considering her threat to be inane like always. _How could he do this now? He promised…_She became startled and her resolve faltered after finding the proximity between them tremendously close and so sudden.

Pursing her lips from gasping aloud when her torn reaction risked the remaining amount of willpower left, she kept her strong eyes in play, but traitorous legs took steps in reverse, sending her towards the mirror where she could be trapped onto its surface, reminding her of the times when she was powerless against him. What startled her most were the onyx orbs that also had transformed into a composed, lustful gaze. Those pair began to eye her down gradually, daringly, without shame. Shifting, she felt exposed and swallowed when his hand rose, digits aimed for the target.

"If only they knew..." he murmured as he fingered the white kimono, paying more attention to a small portion above her chest.

She couldn't articulate a word. His scent was suddenly very empowering: the same fresh shower smell combined with the sweet aroma of burning wood that made her heart lurch with every intake of breath. It was the scent she was so used to, starting off as an ache to find; and when she did drink it into her system, it always left her in a stupor—mind dizzy, senses scuttled and emotions at the brink of rupture.

"...the things I have done to you…"

—_The humiliation I suffered for each time you released your hate and it hurt so much_—

Following his seductive scent was the deep voice that made her knees weak, the one that broke her perfect posture she had learned from a decent upbringing, shaming her so. She was supposed to have perfect feminine etiquette to make others proud, particularly herself, with head held high—in the right place—as one of the village's respectable kunoichi, but everything became clumsy and chaotic like she was reverted to her younger self, lacking self-esteem.

The only part of her that improved was her hearing, which heightened in ability to just hear him speak, to hear the familiar, smooth vocals, even if it was his customary one syllable words or sounds. And what she always dreamed to hear was her name rolling off his tongue—

"…_what we do together alone."_

Despite her assertions of moving on, ready to give her love to someone deserving, she, with misplaced and scurried feelings, let the dim hope emerge in a rare opportunity, even when every fiber of her being screamed at her to stop it, she couldn't…for so many reasons of the heart and surrendered to him. And the many lies that sprouted in the earth like tiny seeds with this capitulation had rapidly grown out of her control.

Sakura couldn't let this ensue again, most definitely not right now, because she fully realized how immoral the situation she had fallen into was, including the fact that she was so close to achieving what _she_ wanted all along and this would ruin everything she had worked for.

"Sasuke," she replied, wondering how to make him understand, "Anyone can come in. Leave before—"

Her reasoning was disrupted by knowing lips in a forceful kiss. Her tentative body pushed forward, away from the mirror, away from her reflection, to gravitate towards him in instinct as his cool lips crushed hers, moving at a quick pace with his tongue luring her in at the same time. Leaning against him, she once again let herself succumb to his simple touches that made her body become both extremely fatigued and alert, as if touching him returned the energy drained with his mere presence—He was a contradiction…

…an impatient man who sought what he wanted—willing to enter a fight, no matter the strength, to prove his power—the lost little boy she had fallen in love with, the silent stranger who returned into her life after breaking her heart, the man she learned to despise with the interior of her being and now…

While her mouth was devoured by lips and teeth, her hands shook in the need to hold onto him. It was too much, even though she had savored his taste for so long, it was like his mere taste was a drug, and while it was supposed to make her crave for more, she still couldn't adapt to its additive, potent high. His exploring hands traveled from her arms to the small of her back, to areas where it made her feel there was an absence of clothing, as they claimed what was already claimed.

The first time they exchanged more than an awkward—in her perspective—touch was when he had finally managed to anger her with one of his sarcastic, cruel comments. Fist ready and pride stung, she aimed to wipe that smirk off his face when he seized her wrist painfully, pulling her hastily and causing her to tip into him as he took the back of her head, smirk in place, before guiding it to his. He had stolen her first kiss, and, what should have resulted in rejection, created the circle of deception and lust she couldn't find the end to.

From behind, she felt him loosen the obi, tugging it away from her form. A sound of protest escaped from her throat but was smothered with his tongue. His hand crept to cup one of her breasts and it took almost all her will to break away from his hot mouth that always left her breathless.

—_I know I can't breathe without you, but now, how am I supposed to breathe with you if I…?_—

"I can't," her statement was uttered in one alarmed pant.

All he did was smirk. And her eyes were drawn to the paint that had decorated her lips, which was now smeared around his, looking so much like…_blood._ Instantly, there were flashes of his cruel battles upon seeing the vibrant color on him and it dawned in her mind that he was one of the most dangerous men in the world. She knew he was capable of ripping her dress, her beautiful dress, to make a point and so much more.

"It hasn't stopped you before."

_You are a liar._ Her conscious blamed after the fact was revealed, and she tried to lessen the guilt by defending herself, "Because I—"

There was a pull of her shoulders, and the outer layer of her kimono revealed the one underneath it. That quickly was pulled open as well. It was like the first time he undressed her with the sensation and pleasure of unwrapping a gift, only he had gone as far as to rip them in shreds, as he continued to part the layers open. He shifted forward and a hand went under it, fingertips traveling up skin until it met delicate lace. His finger was running across her lower abdomen, across her thin panties before heading downward to her core.

"Remember the first time, _Sa-ku-ra_?" he asked so calmly in his usual monotone, hiding the mocking gist intended.

She was silent, faded cherry lips were quivering when those fingers teased her womanhood, slowly sweeping pass areas that were key to finding bliss as transient presses brought sparks within the pit of her abdomen. Her legs also started to quiver in familiar anticipation, and still, were not enough to ignite the desired and forbidden flame.

His sly smirk remained positioned on his mouth, knowing full well the torment and disarray he was pushing her into. It wasn't the first time this tactic was exploited against her; he used it every time in the thrilling foreplay to watch her face become alive as her cheeks are enflamed to a tomato-like red shade and hear the helpless resonance in the moans through parted lips. Those melodious hums nearly sent him over the edge, especially when she arched, full breasts teasing him from beneath some garment, knowing it was his hand, not hers—nor anyone else's for that matter—that was the maker which created this beauty.

And with power to generate a different kind of beauty she didn't know she possessed, he made her pay with a price to grant her eternal bliss veiled in a few moments by prolonging the ticks of the clock. He wanted to hear her plead, acknowledge that he was the only one who did this to her, and give him permission to take her whenever he wanted. And plead she did, to his complete bidding.

Her pursed lips, muffling upcoming whimpers, and forced open eyelids were preventing him from seeing his creation. Though he was not angry or frustrated because it only added on to what he wanted: to break her slowly for it was most satisfactory. Wandering back to start over again, he dragged long fingers harder onto her flesh, a thumb rested on top, and rubbed.

"You were so willing," he murmured.

—_And he was so cruel in his actions, receiving pleasure from watching me suffer inches before him. I was his amusement. He never cared about my well-being_—

With the silent command of his touch, the building ticklish feeling discharged liquid, readying her for stimulation, nipples taut, much to her disbelief at how rapidly she became wet—though there were times when a small stroke in the precise area was all that was needed to receive him, challenging her initial opinion—as gratifying sensations gathered to intensify and sate.

"I-I don't..."

Her claims were left unfinished when digits disappeared, to her honest dissatisfaction, only to appear at the side of her hip as panties were pulled down to her thighs. Feeling a fleeting cool breeze, she was unable to collect herself and he stole this chance by hoisting her just enough to slam her against a wall. Her dress loosened, nearly flying open, and her jumbling thoughts ceased, resulting in an almost pathetic, quick surrender as she croaked weakly.

"Not in here..."

That teasing hand pulled at the expensive material, wanting to tear it off her body. "I want you now."

—_He always gets what he wants. What about my happiness?_—

And her panties lowered until it fell to her feet. He fumbled for a moment with his pants before taking her around the waist, lifting her to the wall and gathering her thighs to set them further apart impatiently, fingers sank into soft flesh, which would certainly bruise over the fading purplish, abusive spots already present when he settled himself in between. It was the only warning before he entered harshly, making a complete invasion, mimicking the first explosion she experienced and it left her choking in gasps.

In spite of her breathless state and imbalance, he held onto her legs around his waist and began to move on his accord. She attempted to capture a single intake of air, but he was suffocating her, large hands on her bottom—squeezing, bruising—his chest shoved upon hers in the same vindictive action that made her feel like an object—a rag doll.

It was degrading to feel like a rag doll, limbs were motionless at her sides, legs wrapped around him to keep her from falling as he plunged into her without any consideration in giving her pleasure.

The severity of their intercourse made her back hit the wall repeatedly and she tried to maintain her head straight. There were restrictions with the attire as layers threatened to fall off when she struggled to keep them attached to her body. But her body was no longer under her control.

When she couldn't catch her breath, she began to feel faint and it added to the effects of the fast pace along with his constricted hold on her, face buried in her perfumed neck. Hot breaths soared over her skin, down her collarbone, creeping under loose fabric, and the top curves of her breasts. Spikes brushed her face as he raised his head; his quick, warm breaths entered her mouth, and she took each one in, recovering from her previous state, but it was replaced with the all too familiar, overwhelmed feeling of burning fire.

Opposing to her beliefs, he was holding back. He wanted her naked, out of the dress she had obsessed over, which reminded him of her prideful habit of worrying over her appearance, to trail his tongue over her sweaty body and feel the withering of blazing skin under his as he groped bare hips, thighs, breasts…

He lifted his mouth to her ear, remembering the dirty words used in the heat of passion—the release of a growing rage still existent in him—knowing he was merciless with her, deliberate and on instinct.

In one movement, he captured her lips and kissed her again. All he wanted to do to her was felt in that bruising kiss: he tugged on the edge, the pull of luscious skin fed the animalistic tendency, and his tongue mingled hers short after, coaxing it to slither into his own cavern, which she did so meekly. Only when she had thrown morals out the window did she respond as feverishly as he. At times, he witnessed how she overlooked the reality of things. And the reality was that he would never tire of her, and additionally that she, no matter how hard she tried, could never push him away.

With that knowledge, he continued to penetrate her silky, taut walls to nourish the void created by a robbed childhood. Swallowing her moans, she briefly closed her eyes, hoping to gain control of the situation. When she opened them, realization of her surroundings sank in; they were near a _temple._ In a panicked gasp, she feared for the consequences of their actions. She remembered her mother's warnings, about men like him who only wanted one thing, the natural necessity for love of females, and the great blindness both genders possessed in obtaining what they longed for.

They would burn in hell for this…but at that second, in the transition and fusion, she was living in his flames. She didn't care about anything else, except—she clutched at his arms pleadingly as the path to their peak hastened, asking him to be tender just for once, even though that trait was erased from his genes.

—_Don't break me_—

Expectedly deep down, she knew that he wouldn't and he refused to comply with her silent cry. Not wanting to feel so helpless, she resorted to wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling the intensity of the unreleased emotions. Her legs around his lower waist tightened in compulsion, making him groan.

He plunged into her harder, their bodies hit and her dampness increased, squelching as they met. The sound she once thought to be sordid stirred up warped excitement locked by morality and innocence, and consciously her nipples continued to harden uncomfortably, also desiring to be loosened from heavy layers of clothing. She bit her lips from telling him to go faster, _harder._

—_Don't ever stop_—

In a blink of an eye, she no longer felt dirty. It wasn't an importance compared to this dire need to fulfill the void of sweltering incompletion. The increased pace, his cool breath mixing with hers, supplying her lungs as augmented heartbeats were pounding out of her ribcage in this white searing concoction, itching and blinding them both.

Her hands grasped onto his shoulders, nails dug into his fabric, remembering the force in which she gripped onto him when she was lost to herself; nails breaking skin, staining her fingers with his blood.

Acting on an animalistic urge herself, she moved her hips to meet his thrusts as she rose and descended. It became faster and faster yet it didn't seem like she would reach the desired end. As if reading her mind, though it was in the knowledge of her body, he put his arms completely around her and in a swift movement appeared at a table. Her back partially met the wooden surface as a vase was knocked down, breaking into many pieces. Towering over her, he thrust in and out nonstop, with his hands at her hips moving her rhythm to match his.

"Sasuke-kun…" she gasped, the effects already captured and sent her to the stage of bliss. Biting her own lips from unleashing moans and screams, her eyes closed in concentration as they entered memorable territory, engulfing her in a tremendous wave of pleasure.

She shuddered against him after the passion coursed through her entire body, toes curling, eyes dilating, and released her lips from her teeth, which she had bitten so hard that she already tasted the copper in the midst of ecstasy, providing a sweeter taste to her satisfaction. She knew he reached it too when he had emitted a full groan subsequent to a final arch of his body into hers.

Jade and onyx became hidden under eyelids, basking in every ounce of their tainted euphoria before the fervor ebbed into the relaxation meant to be enjoyed in bed, filled with loving caresses, tangled limbs, and nestled bodies resembling one.

He didn't make an effort to slip out of her. Instead, he opted to hold her closer, and listened to the cadence and movement of their breaths and chests. She felt lightheaded, unable to open her eyelids more than halfway. His mouth lowered to her scented neck and noticed the mark he put on her neck yesterday was gone. Her half lidded eyes finally widened. She figured out what he was thinking. "Don't! Everyone will see—"

"And why should I care?" he murmured against her neck, teeth grazing the fair, snowy skin ready to sink his teeth.

Rapidly, tears formed in her eyes. "Sasuke..."

He looked at her, meeting his reflection in those iridescent olives, and out of rarity, but certainly out of lost gentleness, raised a hand to cup her face, thumb ready to catch the droplets from the corners of her eyelashes. There was a genuine look of surprise in her orbs, and his lips were prepared to reciprocate a response when they were interrupted by loud knocks on the door.

"Please tell me you're not getting cold feet, forehead!" a voice yelled through the door.

The eye contact was broken when she looked towards the door; realization returned to her senses and she was subconsciously pained by having to dodge his touch, squirming in his hold.

He complied by letting her go, to which she bolted up from the table, yet stayed inches from her. When her feet were planted onto the floor, she pulled up her panties over hot skin and dressed again. Sasuke had looked at her expectedly and she avoided his gaze, instead, she rearranged her dress, and answered Ino, "I'll be there in a minute!"

Sakura fumbled with the heavy layers, putting them in place in a speedy manner in contrast to the careful technique that took minutes to align until she pleased, and had trouble tying it, lacking the help from Ino.

"Help me with this!"

She had whispered in a frustrated tone, and he slowly complied. Once it was tied, he took hold of her arms before she dashed away, and lowered his mouth to the side of her head. "You're not fit to wear white. But it's the only color that fits you…apart from red."

"Sasuke," she whispered, hurt by the truth in his words and her hypocrisy.

"Red suits you the most," he continued as he pulled back a lock of pink hair from her face.

—_Because I love it when I see the sight of my blood on your sweaty skin as I wither underneath you. I stare into the crimson that swirls in your eyes when you force all the repressed emotions with every thrust, desiring a release and a will to destroy me_—

"Sasuke, please go," she asked, turning in his arms.

He gave a silent sigh as he observed her flushed face: the various, arousing expressions in those dark, dilated emerald irises were secreted in his own, and the swollen, edible looking lips were simply asking to be tasted again. Her visible neck was doused with lustrous moisture like the skin above her breasts when he usually trailed it with his mouth…she was looking so beautiful, so frail, _so fuckable._

His gaze dropped to the band on her finger, causing his eyes to become clouded and his mask placed again. He knew what this ceremony meant to her. It was what she deserved for suffering because of him, especially when she was with him, for all those years. And without another word, he turned, adjusting his own black attire before leaving the room as silently as he entered.

She only watched the empty space he occupied for a few seconds before dabbing the sweat from her face away with a spare handkerchief. It was too late to cool down her hot body in all those layers of her kimono so she forced herself to adapt to the strong heat as she hurried to the mirror, frantically reapplying the red paint on her lips. Lastly, she perfumed herself all over with the scent of lilacs, noting that she heavily smelled of sex—_of him_.

It was time.

Her stomach became full with those annoying butterflies again. Hoping she looked normal, she took one deep breath and peered down the aisle, head filling with questions. Was this the right decision? Would she honestly be happy?

"Are you ready, Sakura?"

She turned to the voice and was greeted with the sight of a curved eye. The formally dressed silver-haired man extended his arm and she momentarily feared this man, who could see beneath the underneath, could decipher what she intended to hide for the rest of her life. Smiling automatically and unwilling of drawing attention or the never-ending doubt, she took Kakashi's arm, grateful that he was giving her away. She had made her choice long ago, this was the path she wanted to take, and wasn't going to back out now.

However, the burst of fortitude was unsuccessful in relieving the filthiness she felt about herself in this ceremony. Her panties were still soaked in her wetness, sticking to her rear and inner thighs uncomfortably as she took the first steps to the altar. She could have taken them off, but what if they were found? The last thing she needed was a scandal on her hands, and it would be idiotic to be caught now, after she had evaded it cautiously when she first committed this sin.

The attention of people present almost made her lower her gaze to the floor, further making her feel unworthy to wed under the current pretenses, at the thought of what was going through their minds. Soon, she was next to her soon to be husband, signaling the start of the ceremony, but her mind couldn't concentrate on what was being said, too caught up with what happened mere minutes ago: the sinful, disgraceful act that occurred and to which she had enjoyed.

—_Can this continue on? Would the passion dim? Elude like we do from reality?_—

Her notice landed on the cup, once she was handed it, in which she would drink from, and she placed her mouth at where her counterpart had. As she drank, there were flashes of a tongue that had engaged with hers so demandingly, mixing their saliva and taste.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The pink-haired woman turned just as a face neared hers to deliver a kiss. To the audience, it appeared short and sweet. To her lips, it was long and lustful.

The sound of applause drifted their mouths apart. She smiled but concentrated on the feel of his body next to hers. The multiple layers of their wedding kimonos separated the skin, but it didn't stop his scent from filtering through her nostrils.

Her gaze turned to the crowd, her friends, companions, and the witnesses of this event: those who supported and those who took longer to approve because they didn't believe. And it was that lack of support that created the doubt within her. His hand took hers; each of their gold bands touching flesh, and along with the shiver produced with the touch of his skin came shock. How was it that everything they been through and done—shamelessly, secretly, sinfully—he still had this effect on her?

Her long eyelashes moved upward as she peeked at him in wonder. In response, he fixed his dark gaze on her and she serenely wanted to melt.

And she could only imagine, though she had dreamt and lived it all, what he would do to her tonight as illegal, taboo actions become legally sinful.

Their sins were blessed.

* * *

_**.:Everlasting:.**_

* * *

A/N: If confused, feel free to PM.


	3. Fixation

_For cassandra/neebu._

_

* * *

_

_**.03**_

_I look at you only once, for one fleeting moment, and I can't stop the addiction._

**

* * *

**

___**f**_**i**_**x**_**at**_**i**_**on**  


It is the power produced in those pools of onyx gazing attentively —lustfully— that makes jade timidly glance away, ducking from his avid, unnerving stare. Though she was no stranger to staring, for she had stared at him too, at times when she thought he wasn't aware — someone like him would never pay attention to her, she sadly mused when she found herself in a repetition of daydreams — only to prove her wrong when he would slowly turn...

...to return her gaze with a smirk playing on his features.

Embarrassingly, she would snap her head away each time, hoping he would ignore her and fix his eyes on somewhere else. It was strange, she wanted his attention and, at the same time, when she had it, she didn't know how to handle the intensity in those dark orbs. And he never did avert his focus once he laid eyes on her.

Why though? Why were her eyes always drawn to him? As if it was something magnetic, even though she knew the answer to the question very well. How could she _not _look at his handsome features or the reticent aura he possessed? He was _unlike _any other she had seen or encountered. But there was one question nagging in her mind, the cause of several bouts of confusion and sleepless nights, why did he always seem to look at her in return… _like that?_

What she did not know about his mysterious, opaque onyxes was that they were once like hers. It was difficult to believe that they used to be so expressive —_so alive_— even in the tiniest tint. The mixture of grey and black caused a reflection — so black, so clear — each time she looked upon him. And although his eyes were so clear, she could only witness her face in his eyes…nothing else penetrated through.

There were several distinctions between their eyes and it may seem that they do not share a single quality. But both held innocence at one point in their lives and were now marred by the vindictive world; becoming clouded, becoming lost.

And in the jet and viridian, there is a need swirling aimlessly, driving their stubborn minds, and controlling their bodies. The surfacing need was completely natural, on instinct, it exists and it cannot be willed away; not when there is an opportunity for it to be released.

A light shines through them, beginning diminutively, therefore, easier to stop the corruption. Yet the longing for liberation and sheer will is more powerful.

He watches the girl, knowing she is shy and would not dare to do something so wicked in front of him, much less go first. And so, with his smirk softening, he decides to make the first move.

Undressing first, he pulls the dark shirt over his head, which sways up his black spikes. His pale complexion illuminates his dark features and toned body. His digits unzip the pants he wears and they quickly fall to the floor, causing her to blush and look away in embarrassment.

_Look at me._

She does in time to see his profile — manly, beautiful, and sinful — as he stands tall with his sculptured body, toned arms, muscular chest. He slowly turns to face her as his hand lowers, drawing her eyes to it, leading her to the part of which she only found in medical textbooks and deep within her fantasies.

The erotic sight of a nude male was so much to take in.

Fascinated, she watches him cup his throbbing member: coral texture, plunging veins, blood pumping, making it erect. He strokes the darker pink tip, thumb circulating in a slow movement before lowering to the shaft; holding onto it like a weapon, in which she'll soon realize she cannot escape from or resist.

The manner he holds it hides most of it from her view. His other hand cups the balls, squeezes a bit before releasing, and with a movement of his palm, he begins to massage his penis slowly in rhythmic movements. First downward, revealing the head, before going upward.

_My mind is constantly plagued with thoughts of you._

His eyes become half lidded in a concentrated expression as his hand transforms, pumping strength as he imagines soaking walls penetrated by his cock. There is only one in mind as he shamelessly picks up the pace.

Her legs are closed. She is pushing her thighs together intentionally to keep from unleashing a response, yet it drenches through her white, unsoiled underwear. His quick breathing and low grunts chill her, awakening the fine hairs on her arms, nape...Her lip quivers at the intensity of his eyes when he opens them in a slow, mesmerizing motion, catching her wide irises as he looks at her in his ecstasy.

_I wish to devour you._

To her shock, he proceeds rapidly than before, making the flesh stretch and produce a response of his own. His eyes lock onto hers when he is moist enough at the head. He focuses on the tip, rubbing and covering the tip of his penis. His full groan chills her to the bone and makes her tremble at his explicit bliss.

She waits for a few seconds, trying to even her breathing. She has never seen a male sate his own desires or another human in general. But regulating her breathing was becoming an impossible feat, for she knew she was next.

He sits back down ands waits.

Swallowing, she shyly undresses, unzipping here and there. Her arms automatically fold to cover her chest when her shirt was removed. However, she continues to keep her bra on as she assures herself not to tremble so much. She had only done this privately for normal routines such as bathing, where she most discovered herself underneath soapy water; when no one was looking.

Evidently, this was a completely different situation. He wants to see her touch herself…He would be the first person to see her exposed, and she can't hide away, not when there are promises to be fulfilled. The thought still floats in her mind as her hand releases the binds to her skirt, and she was extremely aware...

...of his moving eyes drinking her in. Unexpectedly, a wave of shame along with embarrassment emerged from within. Was her body not to his expectations?

Shyly, with fearful eyes, she looks down, bringing her arms closer to her bra covered breasts. And almost immediately, she feels a tug from inside, urging her to lift her head in his direction.

_Don't be afraid._

As she meets his softer stare, her heartbeat begins to increase. Slowly, very slowly, she removes her undergarments. First she removes the straps of her bra, and then she protects her bosom with one arm as she lets it fall to the floor. There was a moment of hesitancy, but with his silent coaxing, she releases her arms.

She breathes — in, out, in, out — and whether it is the cool air around her or the natural nervousness, her nipples perk up against the flesh of her arm. However, she does not notice...her shaking hands are lowering to her hips.

The young woman is able to stand in her nude feminine glory, allowing his eyes to feed on the sight of her body. It gives her a strange feeling, for she feels powerful to remain standing there without cowering, and is given the determination to continue.

She cups her breasts, brushes her thumbs over the hardened nipples. He watches every movement: that small left hand of hers lowers to her ribs...to her small navel...to her feminine curves...back to the ivory skin of her arms, shoulders...the arch of her breasts.

It excites his body and he wants more. Yet he does not voice out his desire. He would let her go as far as she wanted to go. The sight of her lowering to the ground for a comfortable position made his member rise...longing to be stroked. Her silky legs spread after a few moments lying closed on the ground, and he could do nothing but let his eyes follow her hand, which is reaching towards her core.

He watches her run her fingers through the soft mass of pink curls, and at the clit, emulating the sin —selfish sin— she did privately, secretly. Gently, she rubs the bundle of nerves that allow her entrance to selfish ecstasy. Fingers enter briefly into her core; she soaks them in the dampness and trails it on her inner thighs, between the vagina lips.

The touch is like sparks of electricity, arousing her immensely — the fact he contributed to the lust was known knowledge to both of them. She rubs harder and faster while the other hand squeezes a breast.

There was so much to focus on, he notes, her face painted with a blush, cherry lips, full breasts, erect nipples, rising stomach, her quick breathing, the hand in her core, oh god, her soft moans…

His hand twitches...desiring to join her. But he must only observe...he can only receive the pleasure by eyesight. She does not look at him, it was to be expected he rationalizes, as she worked for her release. Along the journey to bliss, she loosens physically and mentally, as sweet juices pour out of her.

Finally, lust glazed viridian orbs turn to focus on him. He can tell by the sound of her moans that she had reached her peak.

The looks on their faces, the flush of jubilation, and the lick of their lips were avidly vivid.

It was purely amazing what a person can do to make their body react, by learning how to soar by themselves in order to unleash hidden desires in hopes of achieving the simple act of escaping. And there are wishes —tainted wishes— of having the power to do that to each other. They exchange a mutual look.

Errant hands raise and dew, cum-stained fingertips reaches out to touch, to meet for the first time.

_It is only you that makes me feel this way._

Her fingers tremble as both limbs approached in anticipation, only to touch glass. Jade and onyx soften as they become saddened. Their fingers slide down, leaving a wet trail along the surface that keeps them prisoners.

_Sasuke-kun._

_Sakura._

_**Why are you so far away from me?**_

It is not a sin…

…We are not insane.


	4. Doll

**Standard Disclaimer Applies**

* * *

_**.04**_

_You say it's my beauty, _

_my body, my mind..._

_You say I'm yours. _

_Your helpless little doll._

* * *

**P U P P E**

**B O N E C A**

**P O U P É E**

**Y A N G W A W A**

**M A N I K A**

**B A M B O L A**

**M U Ñ E C A**

**.D O L L .**

—

—

—

_**M**_**u**_**ñ**_**e**_**c**_**a**_** d**_**e**_** Tr**_**a**_**p**_**o**

—

—

—

A rag doll, although convenient and simple, gets dirtied easily.

It is made for the extremely playful and careless little girls, too young to take care of their toys. However, those little girls adored their first dolls, and would take them everywhere they set foot in with great joy. The dolls were unlike their stuffed teddy bears or animals because they resembled humans like themselves, emitting a friendship between owner and toy. Despite the stains of spilled milk and nail polish on the tattered dress, the rag doll was still loved unconditionally as the years passed by.

She had owned a rag doll in her early childhood once. It was made by her grandmother who gave the doll yellow strands of yarn for hair, much to Sakura's dislike. So with a red marker from her assorted writing utensil box, she drenched the braided, yellow strands and her tiny fingers with red, deciding it was a prettier rag doll with that hair color, and thus, more deserving of Sakura's caresses.

But when her rag doll became dirtied and repeatedly torn, she would reject the doll until her grandmother cleaned and sewn it up. When she became upset, there was more than one occasion where she had thrown her doll across the room, street, or store carelessly. Her doll transformed into an object in which Sakura released her fury on because it was not easily torn, especially by a four year old. So Sakura would bite into it, claw at it, and leave it on the floor when she was finished.

And now she was the one...

...who was thrown mercilessly across the room. Her back hit the wall, table, floor, and objects with such force that knocked the air out of her. Shaking, she attempted to stand but was pushed to the ground, landing on her stomach. Her instinct was to defend herself and fight back. There was no way she was going to suffer this humiliation being a strong and skilled woman. Gone were the days of her weak willed tendencies, she did not give her all—sweat, blood, and tears— throughout her life to be reduced to this. Deep down, she knew she was capable of inflicting great damage in return; however, she summoned all her willpower to hold back.

She lay motionless on the cold floor, mimicking a rag doll with her limbs and hair sprawled. Parts of her body were red—about to bruise—and her clothes were stained with blood. There was pain all over her body, and shortly after, it gave a lurch, forcing her to spit up blood. With one movement, she was turned over and she faced her attacker...he must have disliked the fiery expression in her emerald eyes, for he had flipped her again. This time he allowed her to get up on her knees until she was pushed forward so her palms would catch her fall.

In such a weakened state, she could not stop his hands from digging themselves onto her hips as fingers began pulling on fabric. Her skirt was now resting around her wobbly knees as the same hands positioned themselves on her panties. Instead of pulling them off hastily like her skirt, fingers hooked around the bottom, pushing it to the side of her left inner thigh.

Rough fingers entered briefly into her core, giving her a small warning of what was to come, other than the sound of pants unzipping. Her body was still shaking, but he maintained a grip on her as he pulled his fingers away, only to enter her from behind in a hard thrust. The action caused her to loudly gasp at the sudden invasion of a hardened length and was followed by an aggrieved moan when he started pumping from behind.

His thrusts did not decrease when he removed a hand from her hips to clutch some of her pink hair. With a pull, her head was violently pulled back along with her upper body and her eyes brimmed with tears from the pain. His other hand snaked up her stomach to squeeze a breast, somewhat visible through the shredded red shirt. There was no doubt that attacking her like that had turned him on intensely for he was now drilling into her as he devoured her whole.

The hot tears of pain slipped from her eyes without her notice as she opened her mouth to finally release a scream—

—

—

—

_**M**_**a**_**r**_**io**_**n**_**e**_**t**_**a**

_**M**_**a**_**n**_**i**_**qu**_**í**

—

—

—

A marionette is wooden and unmoving.

It is made for those who wish to take its strings and make the puppet doll become alive. Little girls preferred others to take their dolls and entertain them with silly performances that brought giggles and smiles.

The girl had found a dusty marionette in a box of her mother's old things up in the attic. It was difficult to untangle the doll from other objects, including it for its brown hair was caught between the strings, threatening more damage. Gently, Sakura worked with patience to unravel and free the doll from its strings. When freed, Sakura carefully set the puppet on the floor and picked up the small wooden squares that were connected to the strings.

It danced.

She became engrossed in the puppet doll, making it walk like a tiny human across the attic. In her young imagination, the doll did not possess strings but was able to walk and play like a little girl would. Sakura was enchanted with the small puppet, and only snapped out of her girlish fantasy when she noticed the shadow of a figure behind her. Gasping, she dropped the puppet onto the floor and whisked around.

The blank, dead face startled her anyway once she realized what it was. It was a naked female mannequin, staring at her straight in the eyes. Sakura stared right back, in wonder to why this was here. It did not take long for Sakura to remember her grandmother used to be a seamstress and probably had used the mannequin for fitting purposes.

With a curious eyebrow, she brought the tall mannequin out of the corner and into the light. Perhaps it was because she was beginning to have an interest in more girly things, such as clothing, and she was, after all, reaching adolescence, because she spent the rest of her day dressing up the naked mannequin in exquisite clothes she wished to wear one day.

Once satisfied, she took a step back and looked at the business suit on the mannequin consisting of a black skirt and white blouse. Underneath were garments of lace that were utterly feminine and seductive…

…It is what he wanted her to be: seductive looking. The image she accepted became the black to her usual white and innocent appearance.

She complied with his requests and he took pleasure in the sexy clothes she wore that showed off her figure. It was for his personal enjoyment, she repeated to herself, as she bought miniskirts and daring little black dresses. She wanted him to think she was sexy, although it was repeated countless times in her mind, she could not get rid of the feeling that she was dressing like a cheap slut. More so when she was faced the strangers ogling her like a piece of meat, not to mention the disapproving looks from her relatives, friends, and mentors.

The young woman would refuse to see their reactions or hear what they whispered_—_what happened to sweet little Sakura?_—_and pretend that they did not judge her, after all this was nothing compared to what she wore when she was alone with him. The skimpiest garments were worn in his sole presence: see-through night gowns, crotch-less panties, tight leather, corsets, and brassieres that did not cover her nipples, instead adorned them with fake gems. She had worn every piece of lingerie imaginable, in all colors and designs to give him something different each time. His favorite was lace, for he had mentioned it was easier to tear apart whenever he wanted.

He would make her stand in a particular place or lay on the bed in a helpless pose as he sat down to observe her. She was expected to stay deathly still like a mannequin in a store window until he commanded her to crawl to him on all fours. But it was an uncommon occurrence for he always preferred to watch her when she was clad in little pieces of clothing that left very little to the imagination. And ever so leisurely, he began to undress her, however, it was not with his hands as she supposed. He did so with his eyes, stripping her completely bare, inch by inch as he imprinted her image into his mind.

He kept her for display; the sight of her beauty satisfied only his eyes for he made sure no others took a peek at his fantasy. As his shameless imagination took over, he smirked, paying no heed to those strings or the green orbs full of sorrow.

That sick, malevolent intent those eyes of lust looked made her quiver—

—

—

—

_**M**_**u**_**ñ**_**e**_**c**_**a**_** d**_**e**_** P**_**o**_**rc**_**e**_**l**_**a**_**n**_**a**

—

—

—

A porcelain doll, although hauntingly beautiful, is baby like.

Unlike other dolls, the eyes of a porcelain doll were more vivid and realistic to those of humans, especially with such fine and soft eyelashes. Azure, honey, grey…each tint of iris combined with the doll's hair color made it so appealing to look at, but it was the particular one with emerald eyes like her own that was her favorite. Despite of its crimson and curly locks, Sakura loved the doll's eyes the most and wished to be exactly like it.

She had begun to gain interest in dolls of porcelain when she had passed by a boutique as she carried bags full of groceries. Some of those dolls were clad in pink, baby blue, and white dresses with lace, making them look more fragile. Its tiny faces were flawless, as simple pink strokes on their somewhat chubby cheeks and pouty lips gave dimension to their whole visage. When she had expressed to her mother that she wanted one of those, she was told they were not simple playthings.

They were easily breakable if not careful, and when she was not using them, it would be best if they were to be kept behind more glass for protection.

So she did. She treated her delicate doll as if it were alive, unaware that one day their places would be switched…

…It was in these rare situations where he, despite of who he was, would show such tenderness. As if he were a different person, he would touch her gently, indicating she was made of glass or some fragile substance. She had been prepared for his usual violent behavior when his hand neared with a cloth as some ideas of torture swirled in her mind. Her eyelids weakly fluttered in response, secretly hating that he would take away one of her senses just to heighten the others.

It took her a while to figure out what he used to blindfold her until he lowered his lips to her ear, saying he would not let her ripped panties go to waste. Yet it was his next action that caused bewilderment when his hands, palms, and fingers ghosted over her skin in place of the usual gripping fingers that left bruises.

When he slipped off the blindfold, he leaned towards her warmth and stroked her skin with his breath. Coming even closer, his mouth reached her skin and planted what he rarely gave…kisses.

Those kisses were given unhurriedly, and she held her breath as his lips connected to her neck, shoulders, breasts, stomach, thighs, and core—In a daze, she could not decipher his intention in those agonizing kisses that were producing such a response from her body. She found it to be another of his torturous methods, but this one was unbearably…serene. It brought out her wishful and hopeless romantic side, provoking an immense need to know what it felt like to be cherished and loved.

The moment she felt his mouth on her lower hip, her core was already drenched in wetness. She wanted him inside her, giving her soft thrusts that opened up a realm of pleasure. Sensing her desires, he would softly part her thighs, after leaving trails of kisses, and fucked her ever so slowly while his hand ran through her hair. This act convinced her, if only for a few minutes, that it was not another brutal fuck, but he was indeed making love to her.

It was enough to make her cry. He said nothing about the tears that escaped confused emerald to run over rosy cheeks. Her quivering red lips needed to be desperately calmed by a kiss but his mouth did not near her face, all he did was to maintain his steady pace. She could not seem to find the necessary hatred that should have surfaced for his mocking act of love making. It was her only opportunity to live out the dream she wanted with him since this game began. Yet at the same time, she did not want to be seen as so weak like a pretty, but useless, porcelain doll.

When she reached her orgasm, there was no physical pain; on the contrary, her body experienced pure bliss that traveled all throughout her body, warming her insides with raw, unadulterated emotion. The absent physical pain had joined her emotional and mental suffering, making her more distressed than before because she hoped, that just for once, he would say the words she longed for—

—

—

—

**LiTTLE D0LLiE**

_**i like to play,**_

_**there's nothing else to say.**_

—

—

—

Without the proper care, her rag doll was falling apart, and in a fit of anger, she threw it in the trash. She quickly lost interest in the marionette when it became a prisoner of its tangled strings again, so she cut her marionette's strings, losing its purpose. That too was thrown back into the box it came from. There was no use for the mannequin either, so it was given away. As days and nights aged the girl, in a careless incident of a tipsy episode, she knocked the porcelain doll off the stand, and it fell onto the floor, shattering its perfect face.

In her dizzy state, she stared at the damaged doll in moving double vision as the alcohol affected her sight. The broken doll on the floor was quickly morphing before her very eyes. Its crimson tresses faded into pink, but the hue of its eyes remained the same, as it started to resemble herself. She was now the one on the floor destroyed, unable to scream…

…Porcelain is broken into pieces as he kept his silence in response to her pleading eyes after they made love—no it could never ever be love—she thought to herself. And was proven right, when his expression darkened and began slamming into her ruthlessly…

…Rag and wood, although seemingly more durable, are burned with the simple will of his eyes and hands. She stood no chance against a hungry, lust-driven male who desired nothing but gratification from repeatedly soaking up her strength and robbing her of any innocence…

—

As the years went by, she realized too late that it did not matter what kind of doll she embodied, for his viewing pleasure and use, because she would always be a plastic—_artificial, resilient, empty_—one because she was reusable to him.

So fucking reusable.

—

—

—

_**Pl**_**a**_**st**_**i**_**c**_**o**

—

—

—

_S__i_c_k_, tw_is_t_e_d l_it_tl_e_ _b_o_y_,

_p_l_a_y_i_ng w_it_h _y_o_u_r _l_ove_l_y t_o_y.

T_h_e t_in_y _d_o_l_l i_s_ n_o_th_in_g _b_ut _c_o_y_,

al_l_ y_ou_rs t_o_ t_ak_e _a_nd _d_e_s_t_ro_y.


	5. Hearts in Halves

_For djagito. A milk carton holding a whip over a bar of soap never looked so smexy._

* * *

_**.05**_

_It's the mystery of you. _

_It's our anonymity._

_It's a mix that makes the thrill, rush of blood, and taste so much sweeter._

* * *

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

I'll **love** _you_ like **no** _other._

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

**H**_**ea**_**r**_**t**_**s **_**i**_**n H**_**a**_**lv**_**e**_**s**

* * *

"I'm sorry Miss, but your flight has been delayed. Please take a seat until there is further information."

The older woman smiled apologetically as a pink-haired female sighed. Inconveniences were to be expected in daily life, there was no use getting upset over it, Sakura thought to herself. After quietly thanking the receptionist, she walked away from the counter and checked the time on her cell phone. It was late enough already, so dainty fingers dialed a number as she pulled her luggage along.

"Kaa-san? My flight has been delayed." The young woman listened to her mother's disappointment while she bit her lip. "I know. I'm taking the first flight available, although I don't know when that could be. You know I don't like traveling…No I'm not saying I don't want to see you! I'm just saying that it's probable I may be home by tomorrow evening at the latest!"

The coral tinted haired woman became quiet to listen to her mother complain that it had been ages since she last visited and she was missing out on several things. "Yes, _I know…_Love you too."

With a sigh, she sat back down quite irritated. Her mother had a tendency to over exaggerate in certain situations. Sakura knew if her mother had convinced her some years ago, she would be stuck in her hometown with limited opportunities and Sakura did not like that. Living and working in the city was much more beneficial to her upcoming medical career.

The young woman crossed her legs and arms as she looked up at the digital boards that listed the flights. So, that whole twenty-four minutes she waited in line was basically for _nothing_. To others, it would have been nothing, but to Haruno Sakura, it was an eternity. Every minute counted for something. A simple minute could be vital to a person in a hospital. Was it any wonder that traveling was not her thing? But there was nothing she could do now except wait "patiently".

Several minutes later, her ears perked up at the sound of the intercom.

"Passengers for flight 119," a female voice said, "Passengers for flight 119, there won't be any flights available until tomorrow morning due to the worsening weather. We apologize for the inconvenience. Have a nice day."

Immediately after the announcement, **'DELAYED' **was displayed on the digital bulletin next to her flight number. She sighed again. How the hell do they dare say to have a nice day? This was one of the reasons why she hated going to the airport. If someone had joined her, she would be ranting endlessly and making their ears bleed. Yet there was no one besides her to listen to her fury. The only thing she could do is check into a hotel and come back in the morning.

At least she gave her mother a good estimation of when she would arrive; she smiled a little at that.

Placing her cell phone in her purse, she prepared to stand up and grab her luggage. As she looked up to find the exit, she stopped when she spotted a very attractive man walking away from the counter. Although his face was expressionless, his flight must have been cancelled as well judging by how hard he was gripping the handle of his briefcase and the narrowness of his opaque eyes.

For some unknown reason, all she could do was stare. The dark hair and eyes combined with pale skin looked flawless against the black material of his clothing. Actually, the man looked damn good in a business suit. '_Mmm, so deliciously yummy'_—Very quickly, she took notice that she was not the only one staring at the handsome stranger. Other women—young and old—were giggling and blushing as they looked in his direction.

'_Of course, he's eye candy.'_

She shook her head; the man was probably involved with someone else, how could someone like that not be? So what was the point of gawking at him like the way a schoolgirl looks at the star of the basketball team? Besides, Sakura was not the type to go after any good looking male—that particular dark-haired man looked like he had a pole stuck up his ass—because she had standards!

However, she could not deny she was a woman of taste, and thought it would be harmless to steal one last glance at the yummy eye candy before walking away. '_There is plenty of fish in the sea after all.'_

When the man left her mind, she thought about what to do next. She greatly disliked when things did not go as she had planned, and at this rate, she would not be able to get a hotel room if so many passengers had been delayed, judging from the swarm of people complaining as they, too, headed for the exit. It was about a minute after she had walked outside that she felt a rather chilly breeze. Thankfully, her long white trench coat was warm enough, so she stopped to huddle into it for a second before hauling a taxi cab.

The weather conditions were to worsen later in the day according to the newscast screen on a billboard. She did not need to be told of that fact because the wind picked up, blowing apart her unbuttoned coat, giving a glimpse of her casual dress underneath. _Shit._ Holding down her skirt, she tried to stop a taxi while pulling her suitcase along.

It was a rather unfortunate time when her phone decided to ring. _'Mother._' Pursing her lips, she saw a taxi ahead and cursed as she searched in her purse for her phone. She only looked down for a moment, but her head snapped back once she had bumped into someone else's luggage as she was pulling her own.

Her emerald eyes discovered she had bumped into the same man she had been staring at inside the airport just minutes before. By the looks of it, he had stopped a taxi—successfully, she noted while others had trouble since there were many people trying to get one—and his hand was opening the door. Yet he was now looking at her strangely. It took her a few moments to register that her cell phone was still ringing. "Sorry about that."

After she apologized for bumping into his luggage, she dug out her damn cell phone that ironically had stopped ringing once she took it out. Annoyed, she looked up to find the man still staring at her with the taxi door open.

Admittedly, she was a little confused. Was he angry she bumped into his luggage? Or was it he found her strange, given the fact she had pink hair? He was not the first to stare in wonder if her hair color was natural—he cleared his throat, making her understand.

"Oh, thank you."

"Hn."

She thought his response was a bit strange but decided he was not in a happy mood either. The cab driver had gotten out and loaded her suitcase in the trunk. Meanwhile, she brought her phone out, wanting to check who had called but she turned to look at him instead.

The young man was gone in the crowd of strangers.

* * *

The hotel she managed to find with vacancies was not the cheapest but it would have to do. She could afford it, although she preferred her simple and small apartment, especially since the big pillows were uncomfortable. What made it not enjoyable was that there was nothing good on television and she was not hungry enough to order room service. After a futile attempt to nap, she picked up a brochure with a list of activities the hotel offered.

"Let's see. There's a hot springs available, a spa, a bar…" Although the idea of a spa did sound delightful, it did not interest her nor did the other choices. After staring at the brochure in her hands, she sat up and decided that a simple walk would suffice to ease her boredom.

Instead of taking the elevator, she opted into walking down the stairs knowing that a bit of exercise was always beneficial to maintaining good health. Her black boots echoed against the pavement, bouncing off the walls until she reached the bottom and opened a door to walk onto carpet. She supposed she was on the first floor so she kept walking.

There was a garden nearby, she noticed, and walked towards it. Once she opened the door, a gust of freezing wind attacked her violently that she quickly shut the door, regretting it. She ran her hand through her windswept hair, brushing back the fly away strands and turned as her elbow bumped into a person who was walking by.

"I'm sorry—"

Sakura had rotated the moment she began to apologize and was startled to see onyx eyes. What the hell was he doing here?—The realization that his flight had been cancelled too came rushing to her mind. '_Of course, why did the thought that he could possibly be following me cross my mind? Haha, very stupid Sakura'._ It was just pure coincidence. Still, she did not expect to run into the eye candy out of all people.

A smile automatically appeared on her lips. "Um, I'm sorry for bumping into you like that. Oh, and thanks again for—"

"It's not a problem."

The pink-haired woman nodded her head as she observed him look ahead of her towards the sky. Slightly confused and curious, her viridian orbs also glanced in the direction he was looking in.

"It will rain soon."

"Yes, so I heard. I don't think our flights were cancelled because of simple rain though," she spoke and returned to face him.

"A hurricane is supposed to hit two cities from here. It's going to be difficult if we were to fly on a plane with that happening."

She muttered a quiet "oh" in embarrassment. To redeem herself, she continued speaking, "But it's actually all right with me. My mother keeps complaining that I never call her, much less visit her, but the days she wants me to come always meddled with my work schedule. It's not like I hate my mother or anything it's just..." Kami, she was rambling and probably made herself look more like an idiot.

He blinked as he gazed at her. Great, now he thought she was weird. Why was it that Sakura always gave off the wrong impression when she met people? It was not only her pink hair that made people stare so it seemed.

"My father is the same way," he replied a moment later.

"Oh, you're visiting him?"

"Something like that."

An awkward silence appeared over them like a cloud. She was not one for uneasy silences so she suggested, "Want to walk with me?"

Did he give a hesitant expression? She quickly added, "You don't have to. My feelings won't be hurt or anything."

He cocked his eyebrow as his hands slipped in his pockets. "You look sort of frail."

"You'll be surprised," she said smiling, resisting the urge to wink provocatively at him. '_Oh, god. I'm. Flirting. With. Him.'_

Whether or not he noticed her nervousness or her attempts of being flirtatious, he placed his hands in his pockets and asked, "And where exactly will we be walking?"

"...Around," she said lamely, after she looked around for something interesting to entertain them. There were several paintings on the walls to serve as décor in the lavish hotel, but she was unable to recognize the artists and did not want this to make her look even stupider.

He raised his eyebrow further in amusement, but followed her lead when she walked ahead. She slowed her pace a little when realizing he was not walking beside her. They only walked through the lobby when she realized there really was nowhere to walk to in the first place. Her beryl orbs spotted a lobby and she went in that direction.

'_I'll make a poor tour guide that's for sure'. _She thought to herself. Fortunately, she saw a few people at the bar. Sakura was not much of a drinker. She only developed a taste for alcohol because of her professor Tsunade. Out of impulse, she gyrated and spoke to him, "I'm really tired and haven't had a drink in a while. Want to join me?"

"Hn."

_I guess that means a 'yes'?_

When the bartender set down their drinks, Sakura took the first sip. '_Maybe I shouldn't have invited him here. This is more awkward than I imagined. What do you talk about with a stranger?' _

She supposed she could introduce herself and ask him what he did for a living. It was what normal people did in social gatherings and situations such as this one. However, she suddenly felt timid in his presence to even tell him her name, more so when he did not initiate the introductions like she expected. So they sat in silence for the next five minutes or so sipping alcohol. When they were asked for refills, they accepted.

The familiar ring of her cell phone was a bit relieving. She took it out of her trench coat pocket and answered it. It was no surprise when she heard her mother's voice on the line. After explaining she was at a hotel for the night, her mother sighed in complete disappointment while Sakura nearly sighed in desperation, especially when her mother complained more. Of course, her mother insisted she hop on a plane and visit before, but this time, her mother's urgency was stronger even when they exchanged goodbyes.

Sakura started to put her cell phone back into her pocket when there was another ring. Thinking it was hers, she checked it, but the dark-haired beside her spoke in the sleek, black cell phone. He gave a few clues, but Sakura was able to determine he was talking to his father. She suddenly found this situation funny and began smiling. She attempted to stop the upcoming giggles, but was unable to so she kept her laugher low and at a minimum until he ended the phone conversation.

"What was so funny?" he demanded once he set his phone on the counter.

"It's just that, here we are having a drink as adults, and our parents call as if we were teenagers at a party getting drunk," she explained with a smile.

The presence of alcohol definitely loosened the tongue because he had agreed, rather reluctantly at being compared to a teenager, and she found the courage to talk about how her mother would be overprotective when she was younger. He would listen and ask a question here or there before she urged him to say what was on his mind. The same hesitancy she saw earlier emerged in him, but she figured he needed time to loosen up…which meant more alcohol. She signaled the bartender to refill their glasses.

Her companion's drink was emptied halfway when he finally decide to speak. "My father is a very distant man."

It was her turn to stay quiet and listen to the young man's words about his strict father and overachiever older brother. She wanted to ask about his mother since there was no mention about her, but she did not want to be considered nosy. If he wanted to bring up what he wanted, so be it.

After his brief, but enthralling, talk about his past, the awkward silence returned. The young woman decided to lighten up the mood by giving lifting up her glass and toasting for the freedom of adulthood.

Her eyes did not leave his as she drank the rest of her glass. Anyone observing the two from afar would have assumed the two were a couple. But was she really flirting? And was he flirting back? Well, in her perspective it was not. He was not smiling or touching her like previous men have done, but she caught a stare now and then...or maybe she was getting a bit tipsy.

Yeah. It was the alcohol. Maybe her eyes were acting out, because she also had caught glimpses of something shiny whenever he turned his face away from her. She had looked around the small bar to see if it was a light of some kind reflecting on him. When she found nothing that resembled what she saw, she neared when she finally spotted it around his neck.

"What's that?"

His eyes darkened for a bit before taking the silver chain out.

It was a simple little thing. It was a fan she supposed. It was white on the bottom half and red on the top half. It seemed a little too feminine for him to wear in her opinion. But it was quite lovely.

"It was my mother's before she died."

Strong sympathy filled her being as she reached out and fingered the tiny fan. '_That explains why it looks so girly. Aw, he wears his mother's old necklace. That's so sweet.' _Something tugged at her heart the same time her head and eyes lifted…

…to find his mouth in close range.

A peculiar sensation was awakened from within her and produced a fire so strong that soared throughout her body. '_What is this feeling?'_

"I don't do one night stands," she whispered, barely against his lips. Her mind was a little hazy but did not find it strange that she had proposed that out of the blue. If she was sober, she would have been utterly mortified at the words that slipped from her tongue.

"Me neither."

Well that settled it.

* * *

Her room door opened and closed with a loud slam, which would have likely caused other people to complain, but the two currently in a lip lock were not bothered. He hoisted her up while she wrapped her legs around his hips as their tongues entered each other's mouths. It was simply amazing what his mouth could do.

Back at the bar, they had brushed lips gently. As if deciphering if it was really happening in midst of their nearly drunken states.

When the tip of his tongue touched her shy lips, she parted them willingly, curious as if it were her first kiss. Only this time she was not nervous at all, in comparison to the sloppy…_sloppy_ kiss when she was seventeen, and even though there were other people sitting at the bar, nothing else had mattered. Strangely enough, she felt that she could trust him with her life. It was a bizarre feeling and notion; maybe she was more intoxicated than she thought.

The gentleness of the kiss disappeared when lust grew evident when their tongues became submersed and tangled. She could taste the alcohol in his mouth just as he could taste hers. It was a combination that should not be mixed; however, with him it was more invigorating than the alcohol itself.

The moving of lips became hurried and careless. Before she could register the sudden absence of his taste, his lips were out of her proximity. Blinking her eyes open in a curious gaze, her lips were ready to pout for the lack of his mouth when he stood and grabbed her hand.

Whether it was from the alcohol—most probable—or his urgency, she let out soft giggles as she was led into the direction of the elevators. Continuing with her girlish giggles, that only increased at his impatience when the doors did not automatically open, she tapped him on the shoulder and when he turned, she tip-toed to crash her lips onto his.

It was to calm him down, but she did not expect him to pull her to him completely, and it made her stumble onto him. She released a gasp of surprise into his mouth and felt the corners of his lips move upward as the doors opened and both tumbled into it. His back touched the wall, yet did not stop the kiss that emerged. He only brought her forward so he could press a button and close the doors before someone decided to take this elevator as well.

She did not even know how they managed to find the room; all she heard was the slamming of the door.

Once she was put on the bed, he took off his black jacket, reminding her of people who would meet in hotels for this certain purpose. She tried to justify her upcoming actions, but all that was repeating in her mind was that she would never allow herself to do this. Hell, she was not drunk enough to throw morals away, and yet, there was this incredulous and unstoppable want that needed to be satisfied.

And that need only grew when he neared, his cologne invigorating her senses, to reach for the zipper on the back of her dress. _Damn, I'm really not drunk enough for this._ It was so reckless. He was literally a stranger to her. She was no virgin, but sleeping with someone the first day she met him? That was on the borderline of sleazy. _What am I saying? This__** is**__ sleazy and very…very slutty!_

His fingers began to pull the dress off, but he stopped when her stomach came into view. Many thoughts kept crossing through her mind. Truthfully, she wanted to push him away. _This is wrong. This isn't who I am._ _This is…_

What if nothing else sufficed after this fuck? She would have just acted like a prostitute, spreading her legs for him, and getting nothing out of it but shame. It would have been nice to get to know him better at least—

_Oh god…_His warm tongue was now on her stomach, sliding upward until he reached her bra. The action triggered several emotions and body responses. What bewildered her was the sudden and strong urgency to be fucked. It had been so long since she let herself be taken sexually. Quickly, she tried to remember the last time she had sex and when her mind came up blank, her body decided to ignore logic and focus on his tongue.

_**Who cares if this was just some one night stand?**_ Her dark side of her subconscious uttered. The more the seconds ticked by, the more it started to make sense. _To hell with it all, people always complained I'm not spontaneous enough. This is a chance to go with the flow and, besides, he's sexy! _

After the decision was taken, her hands started to push her dress down from her hips when he stopped her. "Not yet."

His words left her a bit perplexed as she was pushed until her back rested on the mattress. With his own limbs, he removed her dress and stared. "Your panties are white."

While his tone did retain some of its monotone, she could tell he had more so say. "So?"

"It's plain white with no design, and hell, it's not even of lace. With your attitude, I was expecting something more..."

"Dominatrix?" She laughed. "Were you expecting a thong?"

"Something like that, I got that impression with the boots. I expected pink at least to match your horrible dye job."

His statement made her gape. He had some nerve! "You try being a blonde and be taken seriously in the medical field!"

"So pink hair was a better option?"

"It distinguishes me from the others," she responded, "Besides I still managed to surprise you."

"Pink just isn't your color."

When he smirked in that arrogant way of his, she decided to tempt him by slipping off a bra strap. As expected, his eyes darted to her shoulder. "So am I going to have to undress myself?"

The dark-haired man did not speak with words but with actions. He joined her on the mattress with a hand running up her spine to meet the clasp of her bra, and took in her scent when he dipped his head to nip at her neck. When her bra loosened, he removed it as his right hand cupped a breast.

Her nipples had perked when he started the foreplay and now he was stimulating them with his thumb, moving from one pink nipple to the other. Her eyes had closed to enjoy the sensation and she nearly yelped when she felt his wet mouth on her nipple.

She could feel him smirking against the areola of her breast. _Doesn't he stop smirking for once? _

When he pulled back, she almost whined. She had just started to enjoy that sensation his tongue generated on her tender breasts, so why did he stop so soon? He gave a reply to her silent question by urging her to lay down as he pulled down her panties. Her silky legs automatically lifted to help him remove her underwear. Sakura could already feel his eyes on her bud the moment it had been freed from the thin fabric.

It started to make that fire in the pit of her stomach burn in desire. Now if only her boots came off, then that fiery desire will be satiated…

"Keep those on," he stated, referring to her black boots.

She laughed. "Why?"

"It's because you have awful taste in selecting lingerie."

_It isn't like I know I will be engaging in sex everywhere I go in public…and with a stranger! _She thought while rolling her eyes.

"Well, let me see yours!" she asked as she sat up, using her elbows as support.

"I don't wear _lingerie_."

"I meant boxers…or briefs, you know what I mean," she said, sighing. "Actually, you look like the type that goes commando."

"In time…just lay back now."

"Does that mean you do walk around with your package hanging out? Aw, let me see!"

"You talk too much."

"If you just tell me what I want to know, then I wouldn't be yapping like…_oh!_"

He had taken advantage of her babbling by lowering close to her stomach, his hands were running up and down her thighs as he shut her up by putting his mouth on her stomach. He only lingered there for a moment before stating, "How about I show you instead?"

"Show me…what?" she asked as sensory overload put her in a daze.

She felt his lips brush against her skin and they continue to lower until she was breathing rapidly due to the anticipation he was causing her to feel. His mouth stopped on her sex, making her all too aware of where he was positioned. She could have sworn she was able to orgasm right then and there, however, she was proven wrong when a strong and slick tongue spoke in strokes.

Reflexively, her hand rushed to cover her mouth from releasing a mix between a whimper and a moan. Following, her surprised eyes shut, not yet accustomed to the feel of having a wet tongue touch one of the most sensitive parts of her body. It was the removal of her sight that allowed her to focus on the man's mouth caressing her quickly dampening vagina.

Truth be told, she was never an avid fan of oral sex. Giving it was not very satisfactory in her quest for an orgasm and receiving it would make it feel so awkward that it distracted her greatly.

And it still was floating in her mind. She did not like to be so exposed to someone's face mere inches away, but calming her mind down a bit, she already told herself to just be adventurous for one night. To reassure herself even further she took note that if things went horribly wrong or became plain embarrassing, she did not have to cross paths with this stranger ever again.

Just when she was accepting the fact that she was receiving oral sex, one of his fingers touched her clit, preparing to coax it. She bit her palm as a louder moan vibrated through her hand. The muffled sound caused him to lift up his head and she, sensing his gaze, opened her eyes in order to give him a questioning expression.

Perhaps it was not such a good idea to look down at the handsome man at that particular moment. Her eyes, beginning to fill with lust, caught the shiny layer of liquid her wet pussy applied to his mouth and chin. The sight of having her juices on his lower face increased the flare in the pit of her stomach. Slowly, and unaware, her hand set her mouth free and earned her yet another smirk from him.

That annoying smirk and wanting to voice a complaint distracted her from the fingers that began to massage her swollen bud. The movement of it was rhythmic as his index finger would slide itself between her vagina lips and move up and down. Most of his fingers would start to rub her in circles and her hips gyrated in every direction he took. It was only scratching the surface of wanting to quench her desire, but it was also producing satisfactory results.

At some point, her own hand reached down her tummy and rubbed her clit, getting the attention of his opaque orbs. He watched for a few seconds until his own hand replaced hers and touched her in the way she wanted. When he was touching the right spots, her body relaxed and her head touched the mattress. He let her be in that position for a short while, and then he cupped her completely feeling the moistness and the heat from inside.

By removing his hand it provoked her to lift her head, but he stopped the action by inserting a finger into her hole. His finger connecting with her body made her purr and he did not hinder as explored her insides. Every curb of his index finger caused reactions from her, more so when he inserted another tendon. With two, his exploring became more persistent as he searched for the most sensitive spots. He used the way her chest would inhale and exhale as his guide.

When he had enough of searching, he lowered down so that his mouth can be once more acquainted with the blossoming flower.

The products of his unrelenting fingers' searching were such lovely whimpers and slippery juices. His tongue picked up his reward, tasting a salty and sweet flavor, but he wanted more. Selfishly, his fingers demanded for more while she was on the verge of exploding. The feeling was so intense that a part of her wanted him to stop. Yet she was unable to do anything when a pleasurable wave emitted from her body.

The orgasm made her quiver in delight, causing her legs to weaken and it took quite an amount of energy not to let them slump. The dark spikes have risen from between her legs and he stared straight at her.

Amazingly, she felt the same desire that was just quenched moments before start to burn inside again. Usually sex demanded much energy from her that she would frequently stop after one orgasm, including when she masturbated. She preferred to stay in the afterglow of her amazing orgasm and let her body recover. Now, her breathing was still out of control and her pussy ached for something longer and bigger. She needed him inside her so badly.

She thought he would drop his pants and jump her (that is what she wanted him to do honestly). Instead the man focused his attention to her boots as sticky fingers unzipped and removed them unhurriedly before trailing her bare calves.

"How dirty do you want to get with me?"

His eyebrows rose at her question. "What do you have in mind?"

Her sex life had always been kept as private as possible and not even her own trusted friends could get a word out of her about her sexual escapades. Truthfully, none of her previous sexual experiences were kinky enough to be deemed as a sexual escapade. So since she was exploring this new side of anonymity and risk, not to mention possible sleaziness, she did not hesitate to answer, "Can I...spank you?"

"No."

So much for that.

She pouted at him. "I never spanked someone before!"

"You're not doing that with me," he stated with finality as he stood to undress.

"I won't tell anyone—"

He took her thighs and dragged her closer to his pelvis in one swift motion. Her sight became transfixed on his actions as he loosened his tie and (rather teasingly in her opinion) unbuttoned his white shirt. She subconsciously bit her lower lip when her viridian orbs gazed at his naked upper body and to his fingers as he unzipped his trousers. She was very curious to find out what was underneath—as in what type of underwear the man wore and she could not help but to smile like a girl waiting to receive an expensive gift.

When he revealed what she wanted to know, she looked up at him. "That's disappointing. I was expecting briefs."

The amused expression returned to his visage, especially when she laughed whole-heartedly. Even though the pink petal haired woman complained about his apparel, she did not miss the sight of his arousal. The light, playful mood shifted into one that consisted of pure lust when she finished laughing.

It was the way he looked at her…it was a look that held a promise. No words were needed in this moment. He was going to satisfy her growing need and she was yearning for it. He ran his hands across her shins, already imagining the sweat doused on her skin. All it took was him to near…

…and his hardened length filled up her wet walls, making her gasp. Before she could collect a thought, he began moving inside her at a moderate pace and her pleasure zones began to respond. After a couple of strokes, he leaned forward while putting one of her legs over his shoulder for better entrance and observed her form from above. She was arching as she basked in the heightened sensations that were quickly inducing sweat, breathy moans, and a content smile.

When they exploded, she briefly wondered if he was the type to want his dick sucked after sex. If so, she was not going to be content any longer. However, it became evident that he wanted to turn her over into…doggy style? It made her facial features blush red. This was one position she had not tried yet in her short active sexual span. It was strange, to say the least, not seeing the face of her lover as they had sex. It was also a bit strange having to support herself on all fours on a bed. However, it increased the thrill of it.

With this new angle, he was able to fuck her deeper and reaching closer to what she was sure was her g-spot. If he kept going with that pace, she was sure her eyeballs would start rolling to the back of her head. It was difficult to believe how much intense the feelings became with a simple change in position. She supposed she ought to know that since she had a medical career—unexpectedly, she felt a sudden pain on her right butt cheek.

Did he just spank her?

How dare he? The sting lingered and she grew angry. "You asshole! You can spank me but I can't spank you?"

All he did was smirk, showing his amusement, and she did not have to witness it for herself, having a feeling to what he was doing. "Speaking of assholes—"

She gasped. "You pervert!"

"Pervert? I think _kinky_ works better." And with that, he spanked her ass again.

She winced. "I'm going to kill you, bastard!"

"Try," he challenged, his small smile unnoticed by the woman.

"Let me go and I'll show you—" All thoughts left her mind and words left her mouth, as he sent her into another orgasm. Loudly, she moaned as her walls tightened around his cock.

"You were saying?" he said, after recovering from the heated moments in their bliss.

It took her a little while to respond as their bodies disconnected. "I was saying how much of an ass you are."

"Hm, I beg to differ. Your ass—"

She tried to tackle him. He held her legs as she got a good grip around his shoulders when she mounted him. Faintly, she registered the sound of pounding rain on the windows. She paid no heed to it because the pounding of her bodies was much louder. Fucking standing up required her to bounce as he supported her ass, as well as guiding her lower region to his cock, and although it was just as satisfying, she was sure her energy was draining fast.

The bouncing lasted a short while until he decided to grasp her tight ass, making her legs grip tighter around him, and drilled his hard dick into her. Whether or not her loud moans were being heard by others, she was sure that the rain was covering most of the noise. That allowed them to fuck like raving, lust-driven adults in search of a passionate orgasm.

She sighed when he softly dropped her onto the mattress as he followed. Wondering if he was going to go at it again, her question was answered when his sweaty body only rubbed against hers before lifting himself away. They lay there side by side, recovering their normal intake of breaths.

Overall, the handsome stranger turned out to be a freak in bed and with an uncanny ability to make her smile. Not that she would ever let that arrogant asshole know. She had a feeling he had some weird fetishes that would make up for that silent, brooding look he demonstrated in public.

_Damn, that man probably just gave me the best sex of all my life._ She thought; fast and heavy breaths started to decrease as she succumbed into slumber.

* * *

The next morning, she woke up before him with a headache. She was a bit confused as to where she was but it rushed back to her when she felt a body next to her. Turning, she contained a gasp.

_I just slept with a stranger!_

Guilt and shame flooded her from within as she covered her face with her palms. She tried to regulate her breathing and gather her thoughts before sneaking a peek at the sleeping man through her fingers. He was shirtless, but it was the way the sheet rested against his hips, which meant he was probably still naked underneath, that made her face flush with embarrassment when last night's events came seeping into her mind.

_I did all those raunchy things with a complete stranger! I am such a whore and there's no way in hell I will ever repeat what happened_—_Condoms! How could I forget to ask…?_

It took her a while to calm down and analyze the situation. She was on birth control; it was no big deal, unless he had a sexually transmitted disease…god forbid! The reality of just sleeping with a random stranger was starting to sink in. Lowering her hands from her face, she summoned up her courage to gaze at the man she just sinned with. He was the type of man that could take a woman's breath away with just one look. The tiny fan necklace was loosely hanging around his neck.

To think he had merely been a stranger back when she first set her eyes on him at the airport. He was just eye candy and now he was naked next to her…She suddenly wanted to know everything about him. Who was he? Her daring fingers reached towards his face and softly trailed his jaw. Strangely, it was not awkward. Usually when she woke up after a night of sex with her lover, it would feel so eccentric, like something was off in the atmosphere, even if she had been with him for months.

It felt…okay, better than okay, beside him. Even though there was a presence of shame and guilt, there were no feelings of regret. However, it did not mean she felt perfect happiness. She was not in love with this stranger. It was just difficult to explain. Her body was sore, as expected, although it was not enough to distract her from this tranquil moment. Yes, that is what it was. It was just peaceful alongside this man.

She recalled how they ended up here. He said he did not participate in one night stands either so did that mean...? No. It would be better if they remained strangers. She had several bad relationships before and he...

...was too much for a simple girl like her.

Finally her hand retreated, she sat up holding the white sheet to cover her chest, as realization dawned when she saw her clothes on the floor by her luggage. This was her hotel room! That meant sneaking out like planned was not going to work. This increased the disbelief she felt.

_Seriously, where is my dignity?_

Although, despite how she was feeling, she could not deny that this had been one of her sexual fantasies. Secretly, there was a passion for adventure from within her, especially when your best friend happened to be a promiscuous blonde who yammered about her sexual adventures. _Wait until Ino hears about this._ Sakura smiled to herself before her stomach suddenly gave a loud rumble. She froze; nonetheless, there was a shift on the bed, which meant he was awake.

_Who are you?_

"Ohayo," she said softly, meeting his sleepy gaze.

"Hn."

_I want to know._

Why did he not look confused or uncomfortable like she was when she awoke? Was this normal for him? Waking up with a random woman besides him? Well, she was not surprised if that was case. He was a really good lover—sure, he was rude, dominant, and needed to be taught some manners, but she supposed everyone had their flaws. Her thinking halted when she started to realize something.

She just needed to know if he had a… but how was she going to ask a very personal question like that? Then again, it was common sense to tell someone you want to have sex with if you have a history of sexual transmitted diseases. Oh, the hell with it. They already fucked so there should not be such hesitancy.

"Do you have any sexual transmitted diseases?"

"If I did, I would have used a condom. Now, I assume you are on birth control?"

"I am, but I still think we should have used a condom just in case."

"That's the thing though. You," he held her eyes in his, "weren't thinking at all. We both were drunk, nonetheless, we're adults. Surely we're not going to fight over something that has already happened."

The lips she was biting down before turned into a pout. She supposed he was right…

When did he begin nearing? And when did her lips start parting?

Hell, she threw those questions out the window when their lips connected and engaged in an open kiss. His tongue ran over her lower lip, indicating he wanted entrance. She let herself be guided onto her back as he tugged the sheet she held to cover her body down. Removing his mouth from hers, he aimed for her slender neck as he inhaled her scent. How was it possible he could produce tickles on her skin that put a lasting smile on her face?

The moment his mouth moved from her neck to the arch of her breasts, she finally spoke, "I'm going to miss my flight and you're going to miss yours!"

He did not look up at her or stop as he murmured onto her skin. "I have a different flight."

His mouth was not the only thing that was distracting her because his hand found its way to her thigh and stroked it. "…Oh. But that means _I'm_ going to miss my flight!"

"You said you didn't do one night stands."

She smiled at his statement before laughing. "So you thought it would be clever to have a quickie."

He responded with kisses on her left breast, before lifting his gaze onto her, and smirked devilishly. "It won't be a quickie."

Involuntarily she shuddered at the chills generated by his voice. There was an ache between her legs that needed to be touched and alleviated. His actions were definitely not hurried, which meant at this rate, she was definitely going to miss her flight.

* * *

Quite honestly, she was sad to go. There was a silent agreement to remain strangers. Well, more of he did not ask for a phone number nor did she intend to give him one. Why was that so? It was unexplainable, but she guessed it was because the acts they committed together were on the borderline of shameless, being that they only known each other for a few hours, and it would be better if she remained a stranger. Otherwise, if he knew the real her, he would be scratching his head, wondering what possessed her to allow such things to occur.

However to her complete astonishment, he had put the necklace with the tiny red and white fan around her neck as she dressed. She refused to accept the necklace, saying it was the only thing of his mother's and she was just a stranger to him. He just shut her up with another kiss, to which he stuck his tongue into her mouth to distract her. He could feel her shuddering against his touch, making his groin throb and desire to go at it again with much intensity.

It seemed that he could not get enough of her. After all, their "quickie" lasted about an hour, which he was able to discover more of her weak spots that made her core quiver, emitting such a delicious wetness. And with that wetness, he devoured her with his cock as he watched her in complete ecstasy underneath him. If he truly wished, he could take her again in this exact spot with her legs wrapped around his…

He had to control his urges. She had already been his for the night and this morning, the scratches on his back were proof enough to last a few days so he had to be satisfied with that. To be honest with himself, he wanted to keep in contact with this unusual pink-haired woman, but there was someone in his mind stopping him from asking her number or a name.

Quite regrettably, he stopped the heated tongue action before he lost control. "It's not the only thing I have of her."

Sakura thought it was cute and in return, she dug into her luggage in search of something. He raised an eyebrow when she approached him with her hands behind her back. Tip-toeing, she gave him a peck on the lips, and tugged at his lower lip before she dangled something between their faces. He took the pink laced panties from her hand, to which he smirked and pocketed, followed by a lewd comment of preferring her to walk around bare.

They took the same taxi cab back to the airport. It was silent the whole way, each keeping a distance between them. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat because she had complied with his request of going commando, which was a stupid idea after all. She had to be cautious of how she sat in public, although the thrill developed from the night before was still present. Her viridian eyes landed on his hand that was resting besides hers. It took a lot of self-control to not slip her hand under his.

_Don't look back at him._ That was her thought as they entered the airport and began to head in different directions. Amazingly, she had been successful with that until she felt a hand on her shoulder, stopping her going to stand in a waiting line. Turning, she looked up to see ebony eyes.

"Thank you."

_Thank you?_ She wanted to ask what he meant but she responded with a smile. Maybe this had been an adventure for him too. Honestly, she had trouble believing this was a first for him, he looked like a walking sex god, but appearances were deceiving after all.

The intimacy shared between the two would be imprinted in her mind for a long time. She supposed she would remember this when she met another man as she subconsciously made a comparison or most likely when she pleasured herself. Sighing, she looked to his lips. She was really going to miss them. Certainly it would be harmless to…she closed the distance between them and kissed him one last time.

A soft smile adorned her features, giving a strong indication that she was in happier spirits, and she was beginning to forget the horrible time waiting for her luggage, including the extra hour finding a gift for her mother. Now, she was inside another taxi cab, taking her time remembering the town she grew up in while subconsciously touching the tiny fan.

When the houses started to look familiar, she sat up and flattened her hair. The cab stopped at her childhood home and once she got out, a woman with a red mane mixed with silver strands ran to the taxi. Her mother was happy to see her daughter and enveloped her in an embrace. "Why, you're glowing!" the older woman stated, and then a mischievous grin appeared on her thin lips, "Are you with someone?"

Her mother always teased about her relationships and knowing she will never hear the end of it, she responded, "Maybe."

"Hopefully, you'll introduce me to this young man soon!" Sakura rolled her eyes at her mother's statement. "Let's head inside, dinner is ready."

Sakura entered her house. She had not set foot there in a long time since she moved for university about two years ago. As expected, her mother had not changed the house. The table was still where she remembered it. Her bedroom was probably still the same. She thought about taking a nap. Sitting that long in a place was not good for her already sore body. Sakura could not help but to smile again when she remembered the hot, adventurous sex—

"Come to the kitchen, dear!"

No, she cannot be thinking about that now! Even though the breeze under her skirt served as a constant reminder, it was not proper to think about sex when her mother was feet away. Maybe she should shower first…_Hmmm._ Perplexed, her fingers came across a small piece of paper in her pocket when she placed her hand in there subconsciously. Sakura was sure her pockets had been empty so she started to take it out when suddenly she froze on the spot when she entered the kitchen.

Two males were looking straight at her. And she could not take her bewildered eyes away from one of them. He had a confused expression on his face as well.

"I have something to tell you," her mother said with a smile. She then pulled Sakura towards the men.

"Sakura, meet your half-brother Sasuke."

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And their hearts broke in half.

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	6. Resistance

**_.06_**

the worst part of you is me

* * *

_My weakness kept interfering; long ago, I decided to fight back: to protect, to save, and give myself a purpose._

_You __can't__ break me like you used to._

* * *

**Resistance**_  
_

* * *

If there was one thing Sakura was definitely sick of, besides her weak will and the crying, it was the constant struggle with her memories. Wishful thinking had reduced her into a coward as flashbacks of what used to be haunted her mind.

Team 7 may never be what she remembered and hoped for, but the longing for those bonds to restore was extreme. Sakura and Naruto waited for their lost teammate to find his way out of the darkness he walked into. The wait was in a messy midst of pain and betrayal, with little support from the world as one by one, their friends moved on.

The time finally arrived, and the pain lifted from their spirits, making them stand straighter, and their hearts were able to breathe easier. Only he was not like what she thought he would turn out to be, despite the various warnings of her fellow Shinobi and former teachers.

_He is not the Sasuke you remember._

Sakura acknowledged that she was no longer a child, and could reflect on the past and anticipate possible consequences. Of course, he was not the same Sasuke she knew to be. The man was forcibly given the curse seal, and was stripped of any good in his life when Itachi was forced to kill all of his clan - including his parents - leaving Sasuke as the sole survivor under false pretenses to transform him into an avenger.

He tried to kill her friends - her dearest friend, Naruto - countless times. He tried to kill her twice with little thought. Sakura preferred not to remember these events. These memories were tucked away because they only weakened her resolve.

Sasuke was looked down upon in the village he grew up in - the one he set out to destroy as revenge - and would surely meet death if he were to ever return. Sasuke was fed lie after lie, but the avenger willingly came home. On the request of Naruto.

Naruto could move mountains, and had a strong influence on Sasuke that she did not have. Sakura knew this since she was thirteen, and chained Naruto into a promise of a lifetime.

_How incredibly selfish._

And the promise still held, even as she tried to free Naruto from it.

For the first few days upon his return, she did not see him. He was kept in the prison cells or interrogation rooms the majority of his time. He was under strict watch on orders of Tsunade. He was still untouchable.

But she, as a medic Kunoichi, could not afford to spend her time waiting to see him. Her duty was to her village first. So she banished the disappointment from appearing on her face when Tsunade sent her on a long mission. As she left in the morning with two other Shinobi, she hoped that he would continue to remain here.

For a chance to talk, so she could see how he was like now.

* * *

The mission was a success. Sakura no longer could afford mistakes as a Kunoichi. She was constantly learning, and was able to maintain those lessons. The effort paid off as her reputation in society soared.

_A Shinobi must always put the mission first._

As tradition, whenever a member of Team 7 -which no longer officially exists, but it never seemed to feel that way once they were all together- returned from a mission, Naruto treated them with a meal at Ramen Ichiraku.

This time, however, it was only the two sitting at the ramen shop. Sai was off somewhere and Kakashi had new duties. Still, she was thankful to be able to converse with the blond alone.

"Do you think I can speak to him, Naruto?"

Naruto's face looked grim. She immediately picked up on it.

"Is he still here? Did he escape? What's going on?"

"No, he didn't leave."

Relief settled in as she thought back on how much she wished during her mission that she would not have to come home to another emptiness.

"Sakura, I'm sorry."

"Why would you be? You brought him back."

A bit awkwardly, Sakura leaned sideways from her seat as her arm went around the taller Naruto in a half embrace.

"Yeah."

"So what's the matter?" she asked, her hand giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

There was conflict on the young man's face.

"Naruto. You can tell me. I'm not the same Sakura as before." She stated with a smile, "I don't cry about my forehead anymore."

He stared off into his large bowl. Sakura felt such uneasiness as she, too, watched the steam float upwards. Clearing her throat, she continued, "How many times have I knocked you out-"

Blue eyed finally met her own.

* * *

Once Sakura closed the door to her apartment, she did not bother to turn the lights on. The darkness felt like a comforting blanket to mask her conflicted emotions swirling in her heart, and the clashing of thoughts.

If it were not for Naruto's eyes that spoke his every transparent emotion, she would have thought it was a cruel joke. However, Naruto never lies. He was the purest form of friendship that could ever exist.

So what if the infamous Uchiha Sasuke picked up a habit of bedding random women? So what if the tears easily assembled after years of trying to master her emotions for her duty -for fixing the mistakes in her past?

Sakura Haruno will not cry. She has seen torture, death, and loss. Each day was a struggle and a lesson to make it easier to act on days where the unexpected happened; whether it be an invasion, hostage situation, or even another heartbreak.

As her sadness threatened her further and interrupted her thoughts, she stood up straight to walk into her small kitchen.

_A Shinobi must never show emotion. _

It was one of the essential lessons taught in the Academy.

_"I always got perfect scores..."_

_"...memorized over 100 Shinobi ways..."_

_"...and have a heart that will not allow herself to cry over him." _

It never stuck it seems.

She began to prepare tea as a distraction.

And when she crawled into bed, her refusal to shed tears was her tacit acceptance. He would never look at her that way. What matters...what is suppose to matter, is that they were all alive, and she had her wish. Here was the opportunity to help each other grow.

Most of all, she had to make sure he did not regret his decision of returning to a life he thought he had no place in.

She banished her thirteen year old self from her conscience.

_Sasuke didn't and doesn't need you like that._

* * *

Sakura feared what would become of her once she saw him again. Not only would it be the first time in months - nearly a year - that she finally had the chance to see him, but with this new revelation about her old crush.

She was not the only worried one. Naruto came by the next morning to apologize. In return for his devotion, she respected him enough not to lie to him. She refused to tell him she was completely fine. Instead, she gave him another hug.

"At this point, I am so grateful he is alive and willing to be here...with us."

"Sakura-chan, I don't know why he's doing this. It's not him. He's not the type to...to..."

She closed her eyes during his faltering words. "It's not our fault."

Perhaps the person whom Sasuke damaged the most was now in her arms. Sakura tried not to feel anger towards the ex-avenger.

_You will never break Naruto like you did to me._

* * *

He acknowledged her whenever Naruto requested they eat together at the ramen shop or some other restaurant. Sasuke did not say much, and during some moments, it would feel like old times. Naruto running his mouth, Sai's inappropriate comments, Kakashi's tardiness...maybe Naruto had it wrong?

There was a part of her that relished the suggestion. Naruto HAD to be wrong, her thirteen year old self piped in, he was _always_ jealous of Sasuke. He wanted you for himself!

No. Naruto was the only constant person in her life. He saved and would give his life for her in a heartbeat. His past actions echoed that, even saving her from the Uchiha himself.

And she felt absolutely terrible for even considering that idea when she saw it for her own eyes.

He was not the type to converse, especially when he went to the market for food or supplies, but the woman picked up on his inaudible cues. Unconcerned about who was around, Sasuke headed back to the direction of his place, and she followed him with a schoolgirl smile on her face.

Sakura snapped out of it, and with a steady hand finished paying the fisherman, knowing she was concealed enough in the masses to be caught staring at her old team mate.

* * *

As the weeks passed, Naruto was seen fewer and fewer, as he worked for his dream of becoming Hokage. Sai managed to enter the Academy as a sensei, much to the astonishment of everyone who knew him well. Kakashi talked about retirement and reading Icha Icha full-time. And what took up most of her hours was at the hospital as a medic.

The Uchiha did not seem to have big goals like the others anymore. Inquisitive, she decided to ask him.

"What does it matter?"

"I am sure the village would like to see you situated again. I know there are some who still oppose you living here among us, after, you know..."

"I never said I will like them."

Curiously, she looked at him. If she had not seen him allow that woman to follow him, she would still have doubted. Aside from the betrayal, and attempts to kill anyone in his path of destruction during those lost years, he felt like a grown-up version of the boy she used to know.

_But he is not - you can distinguish that very well. _

"In that case, what are you interested in?"

The look he gave her was unusual, as if he actually considered her question. Instead, with a brief smirk, he began to leave.

"I'll see you around. Tell Naruto to stop bothering me. It's annoying."

Perplexed, she moved onto her day.

So, the Uchiha was on speaking terms with her. Maybe this still could be just like she and Naruto wanted.

Her day would have been a good one if it hadn't for a blonde beauty that came rushing to her with gossip.

And lots of it.

* * *

Before, she would think to herself. In the scope of the whole picture, does this change much? Furthermore, there was still her silent acceptance of a differing personality. Time certainly has the mysterious power of changing people.

_At least he wasn't on a murderous rampage._

Despite Ino comforting her on the situation, Sakura felt it was more of a concern if the Uchiha's recent activity became public knowledge rather than what she personally felt about it. He did not need to put himself in that negative view when he was supposed to work on improving his role in the village.

Though, she was not present when the legal conditions were laid out in front of him. How much does Sasuke have to do in order to prove his loyalty again? Either way, she noted the looks of some of the villagers, and what they were saying about the last Uchiha.

None of it was favorable. So why was he putting himself more at risk everything she and Naruto worked for?

Actually, most of it was in gratitude to Naruto. He stayed at the legal proceedings as he vouched for his best friend while she was out on a mission. If given the chance, she would be at their side as well.

Determined, she would not let him dig his own grave once more.

* * *

"Sasuke, you have to stop."

He did not respond immediately to her demand. He ran a hand through his messy hair as he moved from the door and back into his apartment.

Sakura followed him in, closing the door behind her. It was the first time she entered the place that was given to him until he was able to afford better housing on his own.

It was a multi-purpose room. The kitchen was several feet away, and there was a futon by a wall. Sasuke went to fill a glass of water.

"Stop?" Turning to look at her for more yapping, he raised his glass to drink.

"I know I haven't been," she began, "...upfront about something in particular that you have been doing."

Sakura looked at him directly as he lowered his glass. "Frankly, I know it's none of my business. However, I am fully aware of your conditions to remain here in the village, and I don't think you're doing yourself, or _any_ of your friends, a favor by behaving in such a manner."

She had not exactly planned out her words to the man in front of her. Years of carrying diplomatic agreements in missions or being alongside the Hokage herself were enough training to help her remember how to modify her body language and facial expressions to remain professional - _not like some lovesick girl begging him to stop crushing her heart._

Her professionalism as a Kunoichi faltered a bit when he massaged his neck, and spoke.

"You may sound more like an adult, and have additional words to say than the dobe, but you, like him, aren't saying anything at all."

Sakura blinked in astonishment. "I feel like you aren't giving me the chance to finish."

"If we were out on the battlefield, you have to choose your words with extra care, Sakura."

"But we are not on the battlefield," she rebutted as she pushed the thoughts of their past as enemies away.

Pulling out a chair, he sat rather lazily on it, not offering her a seat or as much a drink.

"I would have killed you by now, moved on from your corpse, and already be a distance away."

In silence, she debated how to carry on as her teenage self demanded a better tactic after hearing such words. _Tell him how you feel._

A short-lived chuckle interrupted her. "Relax, Sakura. I was not being serious."

For a second time, he raised his hand to massage his neck as he yawned. "Perhaps, I should have been wise in choosing words as well," he stated when there was still a lack of a response.

Sakura took a second to look down before replying, "There is no need. I would now like to rephrase. I realize I was vague..."

Green eyes caught the pair of black panties on his carpet floor, unaware that black eyes tracked her gaze.

"Ah, she was telling the truth about forgetting that."

Instantly forgetting her newly formed speech, all she could come up with was one word.

"W-Who?"

Sasuke stood from the chair as he spoke, "It's interesting how they all make up some excuse to come here again. They are all very alike, and predictable."

_Just how many women...?_

"Why are you doing this to them?" she asked, "For amusement?"

"No," his answer sounded genuine, after a short pause.

_Will there ever be anyone who reaches your standards, Sasuke? _Sakura wondered. A part of her expected him to also answer that question while he watched her.

"Your reactions to these things are already enough for my _amusement_," Sasuke deliberately placed emphasis on the word she chose. "Would you like me to tell you more?"

Her eyes flashed in anger. This was all a rouse. "Screw-"

His lips lifted slowly and seductively, "Me? How willing are you?"

Sasuke's demon had resurfaced.

The warning was not in his words, but in his body language. It was something she did not learn until after he tried to kill her, and now Sakura could prepare a defense or attack.

Whether her anger had given away her next move, or he used his Sharingan, her punch was caught. A part of her fury subsided and in place came satisfaction. There was no way that did not hurt him, though he did not release what he seized, or outwardly displayed discomfort.

"Let go."

Sakura could definitely hurt him. Had he ever seen her in combat? She did not remember the events that occurred during the Fourth War anymore. There was too much death. Too much blood. Too much loss. And with a victory, why remember the tragedy?

"I prefer this position," he said after viewing her stance, creamy legs firm, skirt rising a little.

Instantly the feeling of exposure crept in, so she neared her body towards him as one of her legs rose, ready to kick him away. As expected, he also caught it with his free hand, and she was at the liberty to use hers. With both his hands occupied, she sent another fist in his direction.

Sakura did not know what to anticipate in the game of taijutsu with the Sharingan wielder, especially when it was not activated. It gave her the sense that they were on somewhat equal ground, and it fueled the fire in her eyes as she swiped, and he dodged.

It did not matter to either about the noise they made. Innumerable times, she almost had him against the wall where she could tie him with chakra strings, but he would evade her each time.

The energy she used was present in the sweat and her quick breathing; she jumped away from him in an attempt to rearrange herself for another move.

And when that failed, she frustratingly yelled, "You think this is a game?"

Why wasn't he trying to hit her? It hadn't stopped him before.

Then there was that smirk again, followed by a low laugh.

He was _playing_ with her. Frantically, she wanted to figure out why, but the more she focused on that, her tactics were getting sloppier by the second. Sakura had to make him take her seriously.

In what felt like the umpteenth time, she found herself hitting the floor. Her arms held behind her back. He did not say a word, nor did it feel like he wanted to. What should have been the time to reconstruct another plan, it was replaced by thoughts that ought not to be present at all.

She was too much aware of his body, of his breathing, of his shadow on the floor next to her, and of his scent.

It was enough to make her breasts feel uncomfortable in the bra she wore. The fabric was unforgiving to her erect nipples.

Forcibly turned on her back, black hair came into view as she felt a painful bite on her neck. Responding in a small scream of bewilderment, she threw him off with her chakra, and used it to heal her wound.

"In a fight, that would certainly be considered a wrongful move, Sakura. Using your chakra because of a superficial reason is quite the disappointment. If it had been more damaging, however..."

"We are not on the battleground. I can't be seen with _this_ in public!"

"So, you choose to waste chakra."

"What's your problem?" she asked angrily, as the bright glow from her hand disappeared along with the wound.

"I just wanted you to prepare yourself. I'll do it again until you learn_._"

He charged, keeping her back on the floor as he reached her, to repeat his action. This time she grabbed what she could when his mouth neared, which was closer to her ear than her neck -she could have swore he took in an inhalation of her fragrance- and pulled the back of his hair. It was a warning that she would no longer stay defenseless. She could fight back, and make new choices.

He let out a growl, but it succeeded in removing him from her freshly healed neck. Sasuke took that chance to give his own retribution as he also took a handful of pink hair.

Sakura could not believe he would do such a thing. Opposed to how she reacted to the bite, she did not scream to her hair being pulled. The thrashing continued, leading to more rolling of bodies across the floor. Finally, she succeeded being on top of him long enough to draw chakra to her fist.

While Sasuke did not release her other arm, he also did not advance to fling her off like he had been. He looked at her without much expression. "What are you going to do to me?"

Sasuke did not sound threatened or concerned at all. She was still his amusement. Was it not obvious that she was intent on teaching him a lesson of her own? Perhaps a blow to his face would rid of that ridiculous behavior he had lately.

"I thought you would do anything for me."

_He is not the Sasuke you remember._

His manipulative words were disturbing. Sakura recalled he did not use much force against her in the past, excluding when he knocked her unconscious when he left the village, rather it was more so in relation to his words.

The word of thanks...

...To a demand of killing his female ex-team mate for proof of allegiance.

Feeling sick and tired, she noted how hot it was in the room. Flushed, she adjusted her legs on his frame, preparing to give most of her body weight to him, and lessening the exhaustion she was feeling. To her inner horror, there was dampness between her thighs.

This aroused her?

His scent was an aroma that put her in a dizzying trance. After so long, here she was, touching him. As a Genin, there was not a moment wasted where she could openly touch him.

This sudden physical contact was more than she was able to handle because of how he was acting. Yet she was not going to give in.

His hands rose, settling on her thighs. She jerked back, beginning to remove herself. There is no way in hell she would let him become aware of her reaction. He sat up swiftly, meeting her face to face.

"Sakura-_chan_," his voice ringing in a resonating tone, "You're something I haven't had before."

His hands moved from her thighs to her bottom, pulling her into him. "All you have to do is move against me."

_Who was he? _

Drawing away, he gave a sharp pull in response. She felt warmness, his pants cushioning her bare legs, and an urge to squeeze her thighs around his hips.

She focused on keeping her breathing as normal as possible. She did not want him to know the type of remaining power he held over her.

"I know you have wondered what it'll feel like to be underneath me. Perhaps you like to ride-"

The punch was fueled in anger, but she was able to hold herself back enough to not kill him. She did everything possible to remove herself from his grasp as she quickly walked out the door.

Not caring to check if he shielded his skull from cracking, she attempted to calm her breathing and her chakra when the sunlight hit her face.

She was a strong Kunoichi. She wasn't a 12 year old girl who was still under the spell of a girlish fantasy, or the 13 year old who begged him to stay, and the 16 year old girl who thought she could end it all.

But her heart.

Her **traitorous** heart.

With the last of the lingering self-discipline, she demands herself not to look back because she knows just as much as he continues to pursue her...

...She would not be able to resist him any longer the next time he came to her.

How she hated her weak will. All those years of proving herself, all that training, and all those opinions of those who held her in high regard were wasted.

_I'm as flawed as you are. _

* * *

In the comfort and privacy of her own home, she allowed herself, what used to feel natural as a response to the situations in her life – a cry that shook her being, and down came the woman she built herself to be in crumbles.

_I should have killed you. I should have never held back._

There was no one else in the world that stirred her like he did. She was a pathetic girl, and as a woman, she was no different.

Defeated, all she could hold onto was the stoic mask that was always needed as a Shinobi. That would be her best choice in survival when he devoured her whole, and spat her back out.

* * *

**You shatter me in a way I thought you never could. **


End file.
